Loss of Humanity
by Daedria
Summary: Bella moved to keep her deepest secret hidden, she wasn't normal. No one knew her kind exsisted. When the balance of the supernatural world seems in danger of crashing down around her, Bella will have a choice between two things she holds most dear.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, Guys! My name is Daedria and I'm finally able to publish this on my own personal account! This is basically the same as it was published on Rosa'Mejilla'Pastel's account with a few changes here and there. It is nothing that is trivial to the overall plot though. Loss of Humanity will now be published on both Rosa'Mejilla'Pastel's and my (Daedria)accounts. These are the ONLY two accounts publishing this story. The technicall difficulties in my friend's account have been resolved so there is nothing to worry about there. For those of you that are checking this story out for the first time, I ask you two things: 1. Please dont judge me on the first chapter I began writing this a couple of years ago and I have gotten considerable writting practice since then (I hope:)) 2. Please take the time to review, I like to know that people actually enjoy reading my work. I accept annonymous reviews and I encourage you to give me advice (just be extra-gentle with the flames... I'm sensitive:)).**

**DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Stephanie Meyer, I, sadly, don't own anything.**

Prologue

_The girl gasped, biting back a scream as shooting pain traveled from her wrists to her shoulders. She wasn't very old; she was about seventeen, with reddish brown hair. Sweat poured down her face as she fought another wave of nausea. What was up with her? Wasn't this just her average fever?_

_She had been bed ridden for two days; usually fevers took just a few hours to run their course. Dragging herself out of bed, she stumbled to the bathroom and leaned over the toilet. She drew in jagged breaths between retched coughs. Spots of blood covered the toilet and mixed in with her barely digested lunch. It seemed like forever before she seemed to finish._

_Her hands trembled, her throat burned, and her breathing was labored. The pain on her arms increased and again, she bit back a scream, but one small squeak escaped her lips. She breathed through her mouth and tried unsuccessfully to ignore the blood she had thrown up. The pain spread up her neck, down her shoulders, to her chest. At the same time more pain erupted on her forehead continuing down the sides of her face to her cheek bones at an alarming rate._

_This time the smallest scream left her. It was starting to burn, almost as if hot irons were being placed on her body. She wet her face and arms with cold water, but it didn't help. She looked up to the mirror to check if something was different. Her eyes widen, "MOM!" she screamed, her breathing is coming in short gasps. She tried to get them off but they just seem to be rooted to her skin. She felt more pain slice across her palms as she rubbed her arms. The cuts were too much to bear, the smell of blood washed over her, threatening to take her down._

_"MOM!" she screamed again, louder this time and her voice jumping to an octave she didn't know she could reach. "Honey I'm coming!" her mother shouted. The girl concentrated on her mother's voice, but it was futile trying to fight a useless fight. The scent of her blood was dragging her under. "I'm here! I'm here!" said her mother in a tone that sounded out of breath._

_Her__mother's eyes widened as she took in her daughter's appearance. "Oh my gosh!" she gasped. The girl (who had fallen to her knees) whispered from the floor," What the hell is happening to me?" The fight was lost and her mind fell into darkness._


	2. Changes

12

Chapter 1 Changes

I tried to relax as my mother drove me to the airport one cool afternoon in Phoenix, Arizona. As we entered the airport my mom started to give me last minute reminders, "Remember to keep yourself hydrated, and take your vitamin pill every morning, and for goodness sake, be careful with the wet! We don't want you catching a cold in forks of all places!" I drowned out her voice and switched my thoughts to more depressing ones. Ah, Forks.

The one place I dread most in the United States. Forks is a small town located in Washington State on the Olympic peninsula. As a child I was forced to spend a portion of my summer vacation with my biological father, Charlie. However, I put up enough tantrums and fits to make him vacation with me in California for two weeks instead. It was to Forks that I now exiled myself, and action that I took with a huge amount of dread and pessimism, but it was an action that – to put it dramatically – would ensure that my troubled self would continue to exist on this planet.

**I hated Forks**. The depressing little town received way too much rain and the monotony of life there was enough to make me go insane (not to mention that my life was already frustratingly boring as it is). I tried to be slightly optimistic (though it was next to impossible for me, or so most would say). Art is my talent. I love to draw, but my skills are centered on landscape scenery and fantasy creatures, and lately I needed a new environment to be able to get new ideas. Sounds weird for a girl of 17, but then again, I am weird.

"Oh, remember to always wear your jacket, you know how cold it gets up there. Don't get too close to anybody, goodbyes are painful you know, and….Bella?" I snapped out of my train of thought.

"Hmmm?"

"Were you listening to me, honey?" My mother's tone was slightly reproachful.

"Uhhh, yeah, heard every word you said." I lied not so convincingly, still distracted. My mom took my tone the wrong way. Instead of boredom, she heard regret.

"Bella, you don't have to go." I turned to fully face her raising an eyebrow." At least not yet .Things won't change for another few months."

" That maybe true, but a few months is all I've got to be prepared and get used to all the changes." My mom sighed in defeat. "Always so responsible, she said to herself, but right all the same. Are you completely sure you want to do this?" I hesitated a bit before answering.

" I have to, it's the safest way." It was the first time I had let my fear show through in that way. My mother noticed this and grabbed me in a tight hug.

" Oh Bella, I'm so sorry, I never knew I could pass it on."

"Don't blame yourself mom, it was a matter of chance."

"You can always come back you know. "She said releasing me from the hug. I heard the sacrifice in her voice. Ever since she married my stepfather, she hadn't been able to spend time with him like she wanted to. Add to that, the fact that Phil traveled a whole lot. By moving out, I was giving my mother the chance she wanted.

"No, it's too risky."

"Well, email me as soon as you get there."

"Sure thing." I answered as we walked into the terminal.

"Oh do you remember your god mother Denisse?"

"Uhhh, the one in Europe?"

"What other god mother do you have? Well anyway, she hasn't been able to give you your gift for your 16th birthday." I laughed.

"Last time I checked, my birthday passed a little under a year ago."

"Denisse was just looking for the right moment to give it to you, its waiting for you in Forks." Oh crap, that meant it was big and /or flashy. My dear god mother knew I detested flashy .Great.

"I can't wait for you to see it." My mother continued.

"You already know what it is?" I almost shouted.

"Bella, keep your voice down, yes I already know what it is, I chose it." She said so matter of factly that it made me nervous.

"Don't worry, you'll like it but be careful."

"You know, you've said that about a million times today." I laughed.

"I know but times are going to get hard and you need to take care of yourself. Tell me about any changes okay?"

"Kay." I whispered, my previous fear coming back to me. With one last hug and goodbye, I boarded the plane and my mother was gone. It took four hours to fly from Phoenix to Seattle, after that it was an hour long flight to Port Angeles, then another hour driving to Forks. Charlie treated the situation with great enthusiasm. I knew that he wanted to spend more time with me so he didn't even hesitate to accept me in his house. It was like killing two birds with one stone, I was pleasing my mom as well as my dad with one action.

However, Charlie didn't know that there was something wrong with me. It needed to stay that way, for his safety as well as my own.

"I'm really glad you came Bells." He said as he caught me when I practically tumbled off the plane. Thankfully, he steadied me before I fell on my face. I wasn't the most coordinated person on the planet.

"Hey dad, it's great to see you too." His silence put finality to put greetings. It wasn't uncomfortable, just inevitable. As we walked out of the rather small airport, we noticed it was almost as dark as night.

"Wow, it wasn't this dark when I got here. Must be a really bad storm coming." Charlie hadn't even finished his statement when lightning sliced across the sky, followed by an earth shaking crack of thunder. It was so loud I felt it in my bones. I jumped and screamed as if by instinct. Thick rain veiled our view from the small parking lot.

Was this a sign? Or just a bad omen of sorts? No, it was my creative mind freaking out again.

"This looks pretty bad, here take my jacket." Charlie handed me his oversized waterproof jacket. I was thankful, I couldn't afford getting wet in front of Charlie.

"Might as well walk, no point in running anyways." I nodded, not in the mood to talk. I was worrying about my suitcase and duffel, they weren't exactly waterproof. Charlie took my luggage and I raised the jacket over my head protecting my face down to my arms. The rain was so powerful that he didn't last ten seconds, Charlie was soaked through by the time we got to the car. "You're going to have to take the duffel in the front on your lap!" Charlie shouted through the roar of the rain.

This was strange, I would have thought that he would store it in the trunk of the cruiser. Charlie was known in Forks as Police Chief Swan. This little insignificant fact reminded me of how much I needed (and wanted) to get a car. I really did not need a police escort everywhere I went. And I refused to deal with any more attention than the attention I was already doomed to receive.

As I got into what I thought was the cruiser, I noticed it was actually an old, red truck probably from the sixties. I immediately loved it, to my surprise. Not that it was mine, but I still loved it. Charlie had gotten in, and placed the duffel on my lap as I hurriedly checked if my clothes inside were dry, luckily they were. But the duffel bag was soaked on the outside.

"What about the suitcase?" I covered it with a plastic tarp.

"Don't worry it won't get any more soaked than it already is." Charlie started the truck(which made a thunderous noise), when I asked," Where did this truck come from?" Charlie hesitated before answering," I bought it off cheap from my old friend Billy down at the reservation. Do you remember Billy Black?" I strained my memory and came up with a faint image.

"Is he the friend you went fishing with when I was younger?" God, those darn fishing trips bored me to tears.

"Yeah, that's him. He's in a wheelchair now so he and his Jacob didn't have much use for it. I sort of got it for u as a small gift." Wow. He was calling a truck small?

"Well I kind of got it for both of us. I still go on fishing trips with Billy and I don't want to drive the cruiser outside of work so…."

"Don't worry dad I understand. Thanks for getting me a truck." It wasn't as if I was going to have weekend dates or anything, and now I was bound to have a little embarrassment tomorw.

"Well, uh, you're welcome." He drove in silence for a little bit before speaking again." I've had to remodel the house a bit."

I was about to ask why when he said," You'll see why when we get." He drove on in silence the rest of the way. I never found the need to talk when unnecessary, Charlie didn't either. Living with him was going to be easy. The rain lessened, by the time we got to the house it was just a light drizzle. Regardless, I still couldn't get wet. I wrapped Charlie's jacket around my body and stepped out of the truck.

" I'll take the luggage up to your room, you just follow the driveway to the back of the house."

I took my time to look around the front yard. The familiar trail that led into the forest was still there, as was the tree that stood as tall as my bed room window, but the yard overall seemed to have shrunk. There was a small cement driveway, which I started to follow but Charlie called me back.

" You're going to need this." He said holding out a plastic rectangular box with a silver rectangular button in the center and clip attached to the back. I took the box, frowning in confusion.

" You go on ahead, I'll catch up" he reassured giving me a small push in direction of the driveway. I followed it to the back of the house, and stopped short when I was met with a garage door. Nervously I pressed the silver button, even though I already knew what was inside. With a gentle hum, the door fully opened and inside sat a shiny silver BMW Z4 Coup with a huge royal blue birthday bow across the hood. What the heck? I didn't need a sports car! My mouth dropped open, and the jacket slid off my shoulders as I walked towards it. I loved it (more than the truck if I might add), but it was too flashy for Forks. I reached for the card I found next to the ginormous bow:

_Dear Isabella,_

_I got you this little gift for your sixteenth birthday; forgive me for not giving it to you earlier. I was waiting for you to get your lisence and then my sister told me that you had decided to move. I know you hate fancy things so I didn't get you the latest model. I hope you enjoy it!_

_All my love,_

_Your Godmother, Denisse_

My godmother has always cared for me like a second mother but, seriously, what was up with people calling a car (especially a sports car) a small gift? A car was anything but small.

"You like it?"

I was startled by Charlie's voice behind me. He was standing by another door.

"Like it? I absolutely love it. But I'm glad you got me the truck. A Z4 would be too flashy to take to school."

"Yeah I figured you would think that. Did you like the truck?"

"Yes I liked it. Thanks again dad." He hung his head to hide his blush. Charlie didn't like receiving too many compliments; it's one of the many things I inherited from him.

"You better go upstairs and take a look at your bedroom. You look exhausted Bells you should take a shower to help you relax, then go to bed."

I smiled, touched that he showed that he cared for me that much. However, I tried not to dread going into my room, after all I already had two cars, what more could I get? Charlie's tone had a bit of an implication in it. My socks were wet though (the only part of me that could get actually get soaked without any risk) and I could catch a cold if I didn't settle into something dry. I didn't really want to walk into school looking like Rudolph.

"You can come in through here," he pointed at the door behind him, "your godmother added it so you wouldn't have to go around the house."

I made a mental note to get her email address to thank her even though I thought that a sports car was completely unnecessary. I walked through the door and found myself in the familiar laundry room. I made my way upstairs to my room. I paused once more before opening the door, but when I went in I found everything as it had always been. The light blue walls, the old rocking chair in the corner, the patchwork quilt my grandmother made of my bed, the dresser, the desk, the – wait that's what was different. The old second had computer was gone, and in its place was a flat screen dell. It had a small red birthday bow with a note attached to it:

_I could hardly let my goddaughter use a computer fit to belong in a museum. Enjoy!_

_Denisse_

God, I was being spoiled today. And I did not like it. I didn't need two cars, and I highly doubted that I was ever going to use the Z4. I tried to comfort myself that it wasn't the latest model, but the stupid little voice in my head said that it was just not fit for Forks. It was right.

A sports car was just not me. I hated it when people got me expensive things, especially because I knew that I wasn't going to be able to really show my thanks. I sighed, pushing all thoughts out of my head. I tore off the red bow and threw it under the bed along with the note. I found my luggage next to the door and grabbed my pj's and toilet bag.

I made my way to the restroom which I would have to share with Charlie, not that I minded, just as long as he cleaned up after himself, which he did. I stepped into the hot water, and waited until the familiar pain seared up my arms, shoulders, neck, and face. I exhaled, relaxing into the pain, and then it was gone. When I finished everything I had to do in the restroom I got dressed and took a moment to observe myself in the mirror. They were still there, but they were beginning to fade. I hardly looked human, they were darker in color on my arms, they gave a way my alieness.

I leaned against the wall the pain was returning to my arms, I closed my eyes until the last of it had vanished. I looked at myself again, they were gone, but if anything, I was paler. I could almost see the veins in my temples and also the ones that ran along my arms. I shuddered away from my reflection and went to my room. What was it about forks that made me look different? I put all my clothes in the dresser and closet once in bed, I let a few tears escape, and then I practically cried myself to sleep. But the rain picked up and the noise woke me often. In the morning I felt like I hadn't slept at all. Charlie was gone when I went downstairs; he had left me the keys to the truck on the table. I took one look at the cereal box and my stomach heaved. Skipping a meal wasn't very smart considering my condition, but I was so nervous that I couldn't stand thinking of food. I couldn't do anything else, I was dressed, my teeth were brushed, and I really didn't want to be late. Might as well get this day over with.

The school was easy to find, but the drive over there was filled with dark thoughts of the worst kind of rejection by the student body, or still worse, being regarded as an insect, a curiosity. It was the worst feeling ever, I was so nervous I couldn't stop shaking in my seat. The sick feeling in my stomach wouldn't go away. It was unreasonable for me to feel this afraid of people. After all, I had the advantage. I was totally in charge of the impression I wanted to make on my first day. Maybe it was because I knew things other people didn't and the fear that somebody might discover those things kept me unconsciously isolated.

But there was also the reason that I wasn't really good with people. No, I was just never good with people, period. I guess I never developed the necessary communication skills for life. Then another thought made its way into my already preoccupied head. Maybe I was just paranoid. I erased all trace of these thoughts as I entered campus, which didn't feel like a campus, it felt like I was entering a strange neighborhood in which the same families were the residents for dozens of generations.

The school was a series of brick buildings, only the front building which had the sign of Forks High school told me I was in the right place. I entered the front office. The air was a little less humid, but it was just as cold. The floor was covered with a frayed dark blue carpet, a row of padded chairs lined one wall, and the front desk was cluttered with all kinds of notices. There were potted plants covering the corners of the office. I internally groaned in annoyance, I was sick of the green. The old lady behind the desk was thin, almost skeletal, with thick glasses and grey hair pulled back in a tight bun.

"Um excuse me,"

She looked up and I smiled reminding myself that I was in control of the situation.

"Good Morning, Um, My name is Isabella Swan."

That was all I needed to say. The instant I said my name a curious light came into her eyes, just as I feared, but it was also motherly.

"Oh heavens yes"

She dug though some papers and came back with my schedule.

"Here's your schedule and a map of the school…" she went on to tell me the best way to get to my classes. I paid rapt attention and memorized everything. She also gave me a copy of the student handbook (those pointless things that no one ever reads), and pointed out the forms that had to be signed. She also gave me that typical absence slip to be signed by every teacher. I thanked her and walked out. In the truck I memorized my schedule. I noticed other students arriving, probably heading towards the student parking lot. I followed them and found a parking spot. I took a breath trying to ignore the stupid little voice that told me that small town people were probably faster to judge other people than really give them a chance. I tried to get rid of the voice, but it hung in my head. Eyes followed me everywhere the moment I stepped out of the truck. It made me feel like the insect I dreaded to be. I pulled the hood off my jacket over my head to avoid the drizzle and concentrated on not tripping over the wet sidewalk.

The 1st bell rung. I found my 1st class without a problem. Once outside the class I prayed that the teacher wouldn't make me introduce myself, but apparently, luck was working against me. My English teacher made me introduce myself after handing me the semester's reading list. I stuttered, blushed, and even forgot my own name for a few seconds. Absolutely ridiculous, so much for being in control of the situation. I was sent to the back of the class, unfortunately enough people managed to stare. The teacher was so strict that she made the class cold in every aspect of the word. The subject had always been easy for me to understand, but it was the boredom that made it heavy. One could suffer of the worse insomnia, but all they had to do was sit in the class for an hour to get rid of it. Laziness also reigned in the room. I could see that nobody ever wanted to do anything in that class. When the bell finally rang the boy in front of me introduced himself.

"Hey, I'm Erick, would you like me to take you to your next class?"

He held out his hand. His hair was slicked across his face in the front and spiked in the back, emo style. The skin on his cheeks had fading signs of acne (still? he was a junior) his style of dressing was also emo-ish. I took his hand, "Bella," I said, heedless of how unnecessary my introduction was.

"I guess you could?" I made it sound like a question.

"What's your next class?"

"Government", my voice was covered in confidence, but it was non-excitant on the inside.

"With Johnson?"

"Yeah."

"It's not that far from here, actually, it's in the next building."

He led me to the door of the neighboring building, keeping the conversation the whole way. The guy was ok, just a little too friendly. Clearly he wanted to be more than a friend. The kid barely knows me! I thought to myself.

"I guess I'll see you around." He wasn't asking, I smiled.

"Sure." Government was the total opposite of English. Made the class so interesting that it passed by in a blur. My classmates managed to talk to me asking all the standard questions: Where was I from? Did I like it here? What was it like back home? There was one boy who wasn't so inquisitive at first, but then he started the same questions after class (idiot). Like Erick, Mike was too friendly, but he was someone you could count on.

"So you're from Arizona?" thankfully, he was the one to keep the awkward (for me) conversation.

"Yea." I could never move out of short sentences or one-word response.

"What's it like?"

"Hot and sunny." I said missing Phoenix terribly.

"You'll get use to the weather here." I laughed without humor.

"I doubt it." Mike smiled.

"You'll see that you will."

It started to rain so we ran to my next class. Thankfully I didn't get wet. He left me at the door saying,

"I'll see you at lunch." and ran off.

It turned out that I had my next two classes with one girl, who sat next to me. She was shorter than me, also with pale skin and pretty curly hair. Jessica was the kind of girl that enjoyed popularity and the attention of everyone around her. She was the 1st person who could give you the latest gossip, and from the overall impression she made, if you told her a secret, chances were it wouldn't be kept for long. However, maybe when time wore off the popularity of my arrival, she would unintentionally shield me from unwanted attention. She had the power to chatter without end, so I didn't have to talk much.

"Sit with us at lunch." She suggested, and I accepted, relieved that I was saved from sitting alone.

When the bell rang (a really annoying nasal tone I might add) Jessica led the way to the cafeteria where we met up with Mike and Erick. Another boy and girl joined us whose names were Angela and Tyler. Angela looked as if she was as shy as I was. Tyler had the same apparent and stupid necessity to try to hook up with me first chance he got just like the other two guys I had met. This made me wonder, 'What was up with guys in this town?'. Back in Phoenix, I was hardly noticed by the opposite sex. Not that I was interested in such things. It also made me laugh mentally, they didn't know what they were dealing with, forgetting the fact that that their chances with me were practically below zero. Everybody's chances with me were below zero. We entered the cafeteria and the first thing I noticed was the table in the back corner.

There were five people at the table, all of them were pale as the whitest sheet of paper, possessed the most extreme beauty, and had the same shadows under they're eyes. There were two girls, one was pixie like, and the other had the body most supermodels would kill for. There were three boys, one of which had the muscles of an expert weight lifter; the second was still muscular, but not as much as the first. The third, he was almost lanky, but I could see that he was strong. He was the one who turned to stare as I entered the cafeteria. His eyes were golden and they had some sort of intense draw to them. I stared right back, I couldn't break it, or maybe I didn't want to. He was curious but confusion entered his eyes. Maybe he was expecting something more than ordinary- looking me? What do you care! I internally scolded myself.

"Bella?" I snapped back to earth.

"Are you going to eat something?" I knew that skipping yet another meal was bad but my appetite hadn't returned yet.

"Umm, no I'll just get a bottle of water." I paid for the bottle and glanced at the table where the boy sat, none of them were looking my way. Naturally I was the center of attention at my table. More people joined us and the introductions started. Not that I remembered everybody's name.

"Who are the people at the table in the corner?" I asked Jessica. Her eyes brightened as if this was her favorite piece of gossip." They're the Cullen's. "She felt the need to whisper as well as I.

"The blonde girl is Rosalie, the other one is Alice. The men, starting with the big one are Emmet, Jasper, and Edward. They're all adopted. Rosalie and Jasper are the Hales, they're twins, and Alice, Emmet, and Edward are the Cullens, they live with Dr. Cullen and his wife."

"Oh." I said satisfied with what she told me, but she went on.

"That's not the weirdest part. The weird part is that they're together. Rosalie and Emmet, Alice and Jasper. Edward is single is single but don't even try to hook up with him. None of the girls here are enough to tempt him."

She finished with a slight sniffle. I smiled. I would have liked to have seen her try to 'hook up with him'. I looked in time at his table to see Edward smile, showing his perfect white teeth. I was internally suspicious; it was almost as if he had read our thoughts. No, that was impossible. People couldn't read thoughts. I tried to concentrate on the conversation going on around me, but as hard as I tried I couldn't get what my new classmates were talking about.

"Bella?"

It was Angela. I wouldn't have heard her voice if she wasn't sitting next to me. I was right in guessing that she was shy, but having found out that we shared my next class, she offered to walk with me. I graciously accepted, glad that I was going to walk with a girl instead of an obsessed boy. The black lab tables in my biology class were so familiar that it gifted me with a feeling of home. Maybe if I managed to trick myself into thinking I was back in Phoenix instead of in a depressing town, the class would actually provide me with a required daily dose of sanity. However when I was handed my textbook and sent to my seat, the only spot left was in the center of the room-next to that boy who had given me a weird stare in the cafeteria.

I swallowed hard, and started to walk with feet that were suddenly made out of lead. So much for the daily dose of sanity, this was surely going to be the opposite of sanity. He locked eyes with me again and I felt the same intense draw as in the cafeteria. This time his expression was frustrated, almost angry. It took everything I had to resist from shuddering. There was something about him that made me feel as if he could stare into the very core of my being. I was less than two feet away when in an instant, his golden eyes became pitch black. All of a sudden I was staring into black holes, and their power wouldn't let me go. As I was staring stupidly into those hateful eyes I tripped over some random book on the floor and caught myself with the corner of the desk that was soon mine as well as Edwards. I heard some giggling around the room, but Edward snapped his head away from my direction becoming even more of a stone statue than he already was, placing one fist on the desk and one hand under his chin. I sat down and he made the impulsive action of standing up, but he wasn't an inch off his chair when he forced himself back down. No one seemed to notice how strange he was acting. Seriously, why did he hate me? The guy didn't even know me, was he judging how pathetic I was for tripping over a book? It was either that or he had a serious anger management problem. I flipped my hair over my shoulder to provide some measure of protection, but as I did this, the muscles on his forearm stood out even more. I hardly concentrated on the teacher's lecture. I just wrote down whatever he was writing on the board to give the impression that I was paying attention but I was actually waiting for Edward to relax his fist. The second the bell rang it was as if Edward hadn't sat next to me at all. Geez was I that bad to sit next to?

"Hey what did you do to Cullen?" Did I mention that I had a pet dog at school?

"I don't know he's been really weird all during class." Mike shrugged as he shouldered my messenger bag.

"What's your next class?" queue the internal groan.

"Gym." Mike smiled brightly.

"That's my next class too!"

Crap.

"Great."

I couldn't believe my luck when I found out I didn't have to do anything for the day because Coach Clapp was instructing us on what would be my future torture method. It was even luckier that he didn't finish his lecture. When class was over I practically ran for my bag, almost forgetting to get my absence slip signed (yeah you know those annoying little admit slips that have to be signed by every teacher). I went to the front office once I had the slip filled out, I was just thinking of how grateful I was that I wouldn't have to run into any of those strange people from lunch when I walked in through the glass door. Hell, did I jinx something?

Edward was talking to the lady behind the desk; he turned around as soon as I walked in. I swear that my face went whiter than his skin. Why oh why out of all of them did it have to be him? He looked like he wanted to kill me with his cold stare. He walked towards the door, and I quickly moved out of the way. I could have sworn that I heard an animalistic growl as he passed by, making my whole body turn to jelly-not in a good way.

I walked up to the desk, wordlessly turned in slip and made my way outside. But something stopped me; I noticed the handle was shaped like a hand. _His_ hand. I ran out to my truck and drove home, trying to keep my hands from sweating and shaking. If this was what I thought it was, my chances of Survival were Slim.


	3. Problems

Chapter 2 Problems

_"I want that power Isabella, just give it to me." _

_Edward's voice snaked itself around me like a veil that wouldn't let me think. It dripped with seductive longing that came dangerously close to crumbling my will._

"_No, I can't!" _

_His luminous blood red eyes burned with murderous rage, he bared his teeth and I saw fangs dripping with blood. Before I was aware of what was happening, his glacial stone- like hand had me pinned against the wall of my room by my neck. I felt and heard the deafening growl that ripped from his throat._

"_You __will__ give it to me!"_

_The malice in his lethal voice pierced me with fear. _

_Paralyzing fear._

_I stared into liquid blood; his eyes held no mercy, and yet I was at the mercy of a terrible inhuman creature whose very name should be evil._

_There was an angry storm outside. I could feel the icy drops of rain being carried in through the open window with frigid winds. I could hardly hear myself think, fear was a dangerous friend to have around. Its shackles were almost impossible to break._

_Almost._

_His iron hands were half choking me, as I searched around in my mind for coherency. I broke through the drowning fear._

"_I-I w-won't!" I spat with what little conviction was left in me._

"_You leave me no choice."_

_Those words spelled out my death sentence. It was then that I noticed the knife that gleamed ominously in the limited moonlight. Terror seized my very soul, whatever happened I knew I could not let this monster claim my life…_

"NO!" I shrieked as I bolted upright in bed.

My heart was still pounding and my hands were having seizures of their own. As I sat there, willing myself to control my hysteric gasps; I felt the horrible drowning fear start to slowly dissipate. There was a soft rain pattering on the half-open window. I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead, realizing that my shirt was sticking to me because of the sweat.

Wait.

Half-open window?

I was pretty sure, in fact, I was positive that the window was closed when I went to bed. I jumped out of my bed and raced over to the window. I opened it fully and stuck my head out, instantly feeling the wonderfully cold rain wash my clammy skin mixed with the familiar cutting pain on my face and neck. I saw nothing but darkness.

Strange.

How the hell did this window get open? The fear that I had managed to chase away came flooding back like an old friend. Maybe I was becoming too paranoid for my own good. I was still sticking my head stupidly out the window when my alarm clock startled me, making me hit my head on the window frame. Rubbing my injured head I stumbled over to my bedside table and killed the alarm. I swear, alarm clocks should be considered cruel and unusual punishment.

I rummaged around my closet for something water proof to wear whilst the pain on my face returned making me look human again. I finished getting ready and drove to school. I couldn't help but replay my nightmare over and over in my mind. I understood why Edward was there, our strange encounter the day before had understandably impressed me that much. I even knew that it would have been hopeless to have tried to defend myself from his wrath. But what was still a mystery to me was the fact that I knew I had to protect myself at all costs. Question is, why? What was there that was so important for me to protect (besides my life of course)? My inner self-questioning was interrupted by the school bell. I hadn't even noticed that I had already been parked for quite a while. It was only a miracle that I didn't hurt myself or anybody else.

The first part of the day was not the most entertaining; however everyone mostly left me alone. Some of the guys still gave me creepy stares, which was obviously going to be a problem, but they still left me to myself. I drifted from class to class, eternally thankful to the gods above for taking me out of the spotlight. Luckily Angela proved to be a valuable companion to keep close, seeing as we were both terribly shy and needed each others company so as to not feel like the isolated freak everyone loves to talk about.

As we entered the cafeteria for lunch, my eyes were drawn as if by magnetic power to what I had officially labeled as the Cullen Corner. They weren't there. A sick feeling in my stomach told me that their absence was because of me. But how could it be? I hadn't done anything to them, except maybe trip over a book. Each bite I took from my meal was as tasteless as the next. Was I really the reason? Or was I just being totally shallow and selfish, thinking their world revolved around me (okay, I didn't really think that)? The bell rung in the distance, I was still far away in self-babble land, but somehow I mechanically got up and went to class. Once I was seated in biology class, I realized that there was at least one positive outcome in Edward's absence― I didn't have to endure the horribly tense vibes that were emanating from him yesterday.

I distracted myself with the lesson, which was actually quite interesting. However, by the tenth page of notes I was wondering how many full pages of notes it took to make my hand fall off. I was on my twelfth page when there was a knock on the door, and the principal, Mr. Mathews walked in.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Banner, may I borrow Isabella Swan for the last few minutes of class?" Mr. Banner nodded, and the principal turned towards me expectantly.

I hurriedly packed my books and followed Mr. Mathews to his cold office.

"Please have a seat." He said, pointing to a chair in front of his desk and closing the door behind me.

His forehead was creased with worry as he took his seat in front of me; it was obvious that he didn't know how to approach the subject he needed to speak to me of.

"Is my father ok? Did he get hurt or something?" I inquired, immediately assuming the worst.

Mr. Mathews smiled humorlessly, "No, no, your father is fine" he paused, "I called you out of class because your mother just faxed me this," he held up a rather stuffed manila folder that was lying on his desk, "medical file of yours, alerting me to your condition."

Condition? He knew? I decided to play dumb; there was no way I was revealing anything.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know what you are talking about."

His lips pressed into a thin line as he opened the folder and looked at its contents.

"It says here that you are afflicted with a genetic disease called Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. Your mother also told me you would be reluctant to admit it. I must say Isabella, there is nothing to be ashamed about." His eyes looked at me with sadness and a hint of pity.

My mind reeled. My mother told him this? I didn't even have Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. She must have had her reasons though. I guessed the wiser choice would be to play along, even though I had no idea what this was about.

I looked at Mr. Mathews in the eye, "Yes, I do have Ehlers-Danlos, but please sir, I have dealt with it my whole life, and I know how to take care of myself. I don't need any special treatment or attention." I pleaded, I did not need a babysitter at school.

"I understand, but your mother requested that we take you out of gym due to the fact that the physical activities may do you more dangerous harm than good. I have to agree with your parent so long as you continue with therapy at home."

Therapy? "Yes, of course sir."

"Then I shall substitute your gym class for another elective. Is there anything specific that you would like?"

I was still asking myself what could my mother mean with this lie, but I forced those questions back.

"Is there an art class available?"

"Well, I know that at this moment all our art classes are full. However Mrs. Andrews holds a class that specifically teaches painting, would you like that?

I pondered for a moment. It had been quite a long time since I painted last. Perhaps this would be a good chance to practice.

"Absolutely, sir"

"Good, now I know that Mrs. Andrews' last class is actually a conference period but I'm sure she won't mind having one student."

We were interrupted by the bell.

"Very well Miss Swan, you are excused from gym, I will personally see to that. You may go home, however tomorrow, you begin class with Mrs. Andrews in building C room 43."

To say I was surprised was an understatement, but then again, I guess he needed to talk to Mrs. Andrews about a certain student she was not supposed to have.

I drove home, more than slightly disconcerted at the turn of events the day had put me through, wondering yet again why my mom would send a false medical file to my principal. I had very little homework that afternoon so I finished around six. With nothing more to do, my thoughts drifted to my mother. Though I hadn't been separated from her for long, I missed her. She always had been the one person I could rely on whenever times got rough. I could never really connect with people, but with her, it was like we were both each others open book. We understood each other perfectly― which is why I found myself in this miserable, wet, dead-end alley called Forks in the first place. Not that it mattered much, if it meant my mothers happiness.

I turned on the computer, thinking it was probably a very good idea to e-mail my mom, preferably before I started an unwanted journey down to the deep, dark land of depression just thinking of my mom.

I found three unread e-mails in my account:

_Dear Bella,_

_I hope that you are home safely. How is Charlie? Are you going to tell him? In the next few days you should notice a few changes. They should be slight, but if they get too drastic let me know immediately. I love you._

_ Mom_

The second read:

_Bella,_

_You should be home by now, please e-mail me soon. I love you._

_ Mom_

_P.S.: By soon I mean __NOW_.

The third read:

_BELLA,_

_It is imperative that you e-mail me as soon as possible. I have a horrible feeling about this. If you don't communicate with me by tonight I am calling Charlie! Please e-mail or call!_

_ Mom_

My mind flew to the dream I had last night. This was not good. My mom was extremely intuitive about her future and the future of those she loved most, 'something passed through the generations in some way' she always said. By the looks of it, she felt that something dangerous was coming. Could it be possible that my dream and her 'feeling' were connected in some way? I was relieved that she was online. I opened a messenger window and she immediately accepted my invitation.

(**Bella**/_ Renee_)

-**Hey mom, I'm sorry it took me so long. I was still settling in.**

-_Bella! Thank goodness! Are you alright? You haven't gotten hurt or anything, have you? How is Charlie?_

I sighed and smiled at her obvious worry.

-**No, mom, I'm perfectly fine― well, apart from the obvious. Charlie is okay, he is actually very pleased that I decided to move in.**

-_Good, you haven't noticed anything strange have you?_

Here came the lying. I felt absolutely terrible about it, but I sure as hell did not want to worry my mom.

-**Not really. What do you mean by strange?**

-_Anything, at home, in school. Anything in the slightest?_

The Cullen familly automatically came to mind. They, at least were strange. Maybe my mom was overreacting. I mean, the Cullens couldn't be that bad. Could they?

-**Ummm, no. Well, actually, the school principal called me into his office today and told me about a medical file you faxed. I played along but I have no idea what it was about. Sound familiar?**

-_Oh, yes, but I wasn't referring to that. I've been so worried these past few days that it's been getting on Phil's nerves. I kept thinking how clumsy you have become and so I decided to do some research. The result was a suitable excuse for you to get out of your biggest threat._

I would have never in a million years thought that my own mother, who used to go on and on and on about how important school was, would send an entire false file for a medical excuse to get out of class.

-**Wow, mom. That is amazing. Thanks a lot, really. Won't it attract too much attention from the teachers?**

-_Oh no, I specifically instructed your principal to treat you like a normal teenager. You will have more to thank me for later on though._

-**What do you mean?**

-_I think that you're going to change more noticeably soon, I can feel it._

-**Thanks for the heads up mom. I have to go make dinner. I love you.**

-_Bye, honey. E-mail again soon. I love you, and please be careful._

I was smiling as I switched off the computer. Talking to my mom always put me in a good mood. But unfortunately, the good mood was just the surface.

Surely it was not just a coincidence that I have a weird nightmare around the time that my mom had one of her prophetic feelings? Regardless, alarming my mom more than she already was, was unnecessary. As much as I loved and cherished my mother, I really did not want her looking after my every step.


	4. Premonition

Chapter 3 Premonition

Edward did not return to school for the rest of the week. My uneasiness at his absence had long since dwindled to nothing but a seed, which I squashed and refused to think about. If Edward hated me so much so as to not come back to school, it was his problem, not mine. My conscience was clean.

Everything seemed to have settled into its own routine. Every morning I would get up, go to school, come home, do homework, chat with my mom, make dinner, and prepare for bed. Repeat the sequence. Although a bit boring, it was comforting to at least be able to pretend to have the normal life that I wanted so badly.

The only thing that ever truly varied was painting with Mrs. Andrews. Well, technically not _with _her seeing as she mostly left me alone to paint whatever came to mind; she was cool with me doing whatever I liked in that class, so long as I provided her with a new painting every two weeks. Mrs. Andrews had found that I had somewhat of a talent for painting the first day I walked into her classroom.

"You don't need to be taught, you need to be set free." As Mrs. Andrews had so mystically put it.

So here I was, at the end of the day, facing a blank canvas and willing my mind to be set free. However, today proved to be a bit of a challenge to me; what was I to do with such a huge blank space? I could practically hear the canvas begging (figuratively, not literally) to be filled with one of oh, so many possible subjects. But my head was a mess. The colors kept changing, being added and taken away. Concentration was more than difficult to acquire.

"Having trouble?" Mrs. Andrews gracefully swept into the room carrying what looked like a sculpture from one of the other classes.

I jumped, and landed rather harshly back on Earth instead of self-babble land.

"I can't seem to concentrate today; everything in my head is falling apart." I admitted as I put a paint brush I had unconsciously picked up back on the table. Mrs. Andrews approached me and my blank canvas. She was young, probably in her early thirties. Despite her age, she had very wise eyes; a hidden kind of beauty.

"You should never force yourself to capture what is absent in your mind. Then the effort will be only half as great should you have had a point of inspiration." She stared at the tragic void that was my canvas.

"Out of all my students, you are the only one that exhibits an excellent work ethic and quality. I have never done this before so don't disappoint me."

As she said this she pulled out a key from her pocket and handed it to me. Hesitantly, I reached out to take it.

"What is this for?" I voiced my question.

"That is the key to the classroom. You can feel free to come in during lunch or after school to work on your latest piece. I sometimes leave campus for lunch so you might need the key." Mrs. Andrews said this so nonchalantly that I could not help but stare at her wondering after all the time she had spent around paint and whatnot, if some of the harsh scents had gotten to her head. Did she realize she just gave me the _key_ to the classroom? Just like that, as if she gave out the key to a student everyday.

"Mrs. Andrews, thanks for the trust you have in me but I could not possibly―"

"You can and you will, you have earned it." She smiled genuinely and walked off just as the final bell rang, signaling the beginning of the weekend. Was it possible for there not to be a day where I was _not _amazed by the turn of events?

I was thinking about the upcoming conversation with my mother as I parked in the driveway when, out of habit, I looked in the rearview mirror.

A stranger looked back at me.

It couldn't be.

I practically fell out the truck, scraping my hands on the cement driveway. After fumbling with the lock on the front door I let myself inside and flew up the stairs to the bathroom mirror.

The girl who stared back was me, but she didn't look like me. I tried to convince myself that it wasn't there, but who was I trying to kid? There was a drop of water drawn on my skin in the middle of my forehead, and from it, emanated absolutely beautiful designs that framed the rest of my forehead, temples, and cheekbones in the faintest of cerulean blue. The swirls reminded me again of water, the first of the Four. Only someone who was looking for them would find them. Once I looked closely I noticed that they continued even into my hairline and along the sides of my neck.

They were beautiful, there was no denying it. But there was one huge problem― I didn't want them. They only reminded me that I was not human anymore and there was nothing I could do about it. In that instant, I glared at the freak that glared back. The freak I had become.

I broke down.

I felt so powerless over my life, as if fate or karma had said "Ok, I'm bored so let's turn Bella into a freak just for fun and give her hell for it." I was ashamed to admit it, but fate or Karma the Bitch was winning.

With these marks on my skin I could no longer go out in public just like I did everyday. I was going to have to conceal them, regardless if they were extremely faint or not. But at the moment I didn't waste time thinking about makeup. What I wanted more than anything in the world right now was my mom. She would surely know what to do.

Wiping my tears, I trudged back to my room and turned the computer on.

My mom was not signed on.

Instead I found an email that said she had gone off on a romantic dinner with Phil.

I could not explain the sense of betrayal that coursed through me then.

"Snap out of it." I scolded myself. "She has every right to spend time with her husband."

I squashed my selfish feelings and decided to distract myself with going downstairs to prepare dinner for Charlie. Thank God it was a Friday.

That night, luck was in my favor. Charlie came home and after a quick 'hello' quickly took his dinner and left to the living room, eager to catch the game. I tried to calmly eat in the kitchen.

Charlie walked into the kitchen during halftime with his empty plate and announced his plans for the weekend. I wordlessly took the plate and began washing it with the other dishes.

"Dinner was delicious, thanks Bells."

I smiled at him over my shoulder and continued washing the dishes.

"Welcome dad."

"Hey bells?"

"Yes?" my back was still to him.

"I'm really sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but Billy invited me to go fishing with him tomorrow. Is that ok with you?"

I smiled at his way of posing his 'I'm going fishing' statement as a question. I didn't mind, I had no reason to make him stay.

I glanced over my shoulder as I began drying the dishes, "Sure dad its fine. When are you going to be back?"

"I should be back around eight-ish."

I concluded the drying and put the dishes away while I answered, "K, dad. Have fun tomorrow. You know, I'm really tired, I'm going to bed."

I had suddenly become aware of how he was scrutinizing my face. Repressing my nervousness I kissed him goodnight, and made for the stairs.

"Night, kiddo." He called after me.

_The Earth was weeping. That's what it felt like anyway; like everything carried a heavy sadness. I was standing in the middle of a street lined with tall dark forest on both sides. Thunder rumbled, and the rain fell so hard and thick that I was soaked within minutes. Lightning sliced the sky in blinding flashes; I felt the Earth tremble because of the force of the thunder._

_I lifted my eyes to the sky just in time to catch a flash of lightning so bright I had to rub the pain of it from my eyes. When I looked down again I noticed a woman was standing about twenty feet away from me. She looked a lot like my mother except― she had black wings. Much like an angel, but black. I blinked several times, thinking it was the rain water in my eyes, and sure enough the wings were gone, but my mother was still standing there._

_What were we doing on a street in the middle of a down pour?_

"_Mom?" I called to her, but the rush of the rain must have drowned out my voice. She closed her eyes and lifted her arms as if relishing the feel of rain on her skin. I noticed that the wings were there again. I looked closely only to find that there was nothing there. I heard another roll of thunder._

"_Mom?" I called again, she didn't hear me. I began to walk towards her, calling her several times but to no avail. No mater how much I ran or shouted, I could never get close to her and she would not respond to my pleading cries._

_The wings. Why did I keep seeing the wings? I blinked yet again, but this time, they did not go away. Realization hit me as I noticed that the wings were not a part of my mother but of another being standing behind her. He was just a few inches taller than my mom as far as I could tell― he kept fading in and out of view like a ghost._

_The angel put one hand on my mothers shoulder._

"_Mom!" I screamed, I could not help the tears that poured down my cheeks and mixed with the rain. I ran with everything I had in me, and I still couldn't reach her._

_Suddenly, she opened her eyes and penetrated me with her gaze._

_I came to a stop, ignoring the pain of the street scraping the soles of my bare feet._

"_Mom." I repeated, this time a broken whisper._

"_I-I can't, its time."_

_I heard her voice as if she was standing right next to me._

_I felt alone._

_Isolated._

_Had I been so abruptly deserted?_

"_No, come with me, we have to get out of this rain!"_

_The storm picked up in intensity. It was now nearly impossible to see my mother through the rain._

"_Its time."_

_Her voice echoed around me, almost like in the movies, but worse. One thousand times worse. It was haunting and ominous. This was the echo of a loved one slipping away through your fingers. Uncontrollable and inevitable. I found myself drowning in that familiar cold fear._

_There was yet another fierce roll of thunder so loud and strong it shook my core and I felt the tremors in the Earth. My knees weakened and I fell on all fours._

_Looking up was the stupidest thing I could have ever done. Again, another lighting flash blinded me. I rubbed the stars from my eyes. _

_As soon as I got my sight back, I scanned the street for my mother._

_I found her lying face down on the street._

"_No." I whispered, I pushed myself to my feet and raced to my mom, surprised I actually reached her. I dropped to my knees not knowing what to do, while my heart hammered in my chest._

_I turned her over. Her eyes were closed. My body was shaking with sobs as I shook her, refusing to believe that she was gone._

_But she was._

_I just stared at her, feeling numb._

_Thunder and lightning cracked above me, suddenly my mother opened her eyes. There were no irises or pupils― just whites._

I woke with a bloodcurdling scream.


	5. Anxiety

13

Chapter 4 Anxiety

I screamed. I screamed with sheer bloody murderer. The image of my mothers dead white eyes was etched in my mind and on the insides of my eyelids. Broken sobs mingled with my panicked, terror-stricken cries. It was an eternity before I could reduce my hysteria to gasping fits.

"Bella!" I heard my father's frightened voice outside my door.

I stumbled to my feet, still so unbelievably shaken, right at the moment that my door flew open. My heart flew to my mouth at the sight of my dad's gun, and the murderous look on his face.

I let out a shaky breath, "Dad, please put down the gun." I tried to sound strong, but my voice came out as a feeble whimper.

I watched as he slowly lowered the gun, and the vigilance in his eyes faded. Once I was absolutely sure he wasn't going to shoot anything (or anyone) I ran towards him, enveloping him in a hug.

"Oh, dad", I whispered into his shoulder.

"Kiddo", he rubbed my back. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Without thinking I opened my mouth to blurt out everything that came to mind—from the dream to what I was becoming, and all of the mind boggling changes that came with the whole transformation. The one thing I longed for, more than anything, was to stop lugging this horrible burden on my own.

But I would not permit myself to be so foolish.

"It was just a dream. I can handle it on my own. Thanks so much for coming when I needed you." _Something my own mother was unable to do._

I startled myself with such a cruel thought. _Snap out of it!_ How could I be so selfish?

"Bella?" I heard Charlie's concerned voice.

"Huh?"

" I said, that instead of going fishing with Billy I'll stay home and keep you company, is that ok?"

"What? Dad, no, you don't have to cancel because of me. I told you, it was just a nightmare. I'll deal with it alone."

He stared at me with such a penetrating gaze that I thought he would see right through the lie. Thankfully I was a good liar when I put some effort into it. I noticed that he was scrutinizing my face once again as he did at diner. _Why does he keep doing that? _My stomach clenched in nervousness.

He shrugged, as if to brush something off, "Ok, but I want you to call me if you need anything, am I clear?"

I sighed, more in relief than in anything else, "I promise." I answered holding up my hand to show him I was serious.

He embraced me once more and told me to get some rest. I couldn't help but feel touched as I looked upon his concerned face. I hardly knew this man. Apart from a few summer vacations, we were complete strangers. And yet, I relished in the security that his embrace brought me. To see that he genuinely cared and loved me as his daughter, was something I promised myself I would never,_ ever _take for granted. I felt guilty that I couldn't open up to him when he so clearly wanted to know more about me to make up for our lost years. When I was once again alone in my room, I simply sat down and waited. The clock read 1:48am, so it wouldn't be long before I heard Charlie's rolling snores again. I tried as best as I could to fight the torment of the nightmare from my mind. Right now the real problem was whether or not I would tell my mom. The more prudent option was to tell her right away, but I couldn't do that. Not to myself and not to her. Telling her would entail not only paranoia, but utter chaos in my life, seeing as she actually believed that I inherited the ability to "foresee" the future in some way. I knew better. Who knew what crazy actions she would take?

Like clockwork I heard my father's snores at 2:12 am.

Finally.

I crept to the bathroom, eager to find out why my dad kept his intent gaze on my face. I turned to the mirror while my hand felt along the wall for the light switch.

But there was no need.

I was already glowing. My Earth given marks glowed and pulsed faintly to the rhythm of my heartbeat. Like before, they were heartbreakingly beautiful, but this was wrong. They weren't supposed to be glowing yet. Not until the day after I Proved myself to the Mother.

This was horribly wrong.

I stumbled not so silently back to my room.

Why?

Why did everything have to change so quickly, literally, in a matter of hours?

I turned on my computer, knowing full well that my mom was surely asleep, but I hoped and prayed that she would get one of her 'feelings'. I needed her desperately.

I didn't even have to wait.

She was already signed on and had sent me an email:

(_Renee/_**Bella)**

_What happened?_

_ -mom_

I quickly opened a messenger window and she readily accepted my invitation.

_Bella thank goodness I've been waiting for over an hour. What happened?_

**Sorry I kept you waiting. Mom, I got them—they're glowing.**

I waited anxiously for her reply.

_Are you sure?_

**Positive, I just checked in the mirror.**

There was an unbearably long pause.

_Okay, get some concealer as soon as possible. I'm coming._

This was the response I was trying to avoid.

**Mom you don't have to, really I'm fine.**

_No, there is something you're not telling me, I can tell. The decision has already been made._

I resigned myself to that fate.

**Fine, I'll wait for you here. **

_I should be there by Tuesday at the latest. I love you._

**Love you too.**

I switched off the computer. Now all that was left for me was to distract myself as much as possible until my mother got here. I curled up in bed, fighting the images that threatened to overpower my mind. "It was just a dream." I whispered into the seemingly ominous night, "Just a dream."

The alarm clock woke me up at the usual hour on a bleak Monday morning. My body felt like each limb weighed a ton.

Yep, today was going to suck.

The bright side was that Edward would probably be absent again.

What defiantly brightened the outlook of the day was the possibility of seeing my mom. I would defiantly get some relief of all the horrible stress. Regardless, I was _not _looking forward to anything else. I did the usual routine of getting ready, but by the time I got to school, my eyelids weighed so much, I was surprised I was still awake—if you could call my zombie-like state being awake.

My boots sloshed through the water on the sidewalk as I trudged my way to class. The clouds darkened above me and a heavy drizzle began to fall. I cursed under my breath and ran, as safely as I could, into the building. Thank God I brought the heavy concealer I got on Sunday with me.

I rushed to the restroom, weaving through the crowd, ducking my head so nobody would see me.

Then I ran into a wall.

I fell to the floor, with my hair covering half of my face, obstructing my view.

"Oh, I'm so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going." A voice as soft and smooth as velvet practically enchanted my ears (was that even possible?).

A white hand reached out to me.

_Please don't let it be him. Please don't let it be him._

Despite my most fervent wishes, I found myself getting hopelessly lost in his light, topaz colored eyes. Why did the world have to hate me today of all days? I reached out to take his hand, but the moment our skin touched I felt the strangest energy flowing through us imaginable, causing me to involuntarily jerk my whole body half a step away from his. He stared at me with a curious expression that held the faintest trace of frustration from our first encounter. He made me feel like a puzzle he was trying to solve.

Did he feel it too?

"I'm sorry; I've been really jumpy this morning." I tried to find a logical reason for the energy in the atmosphere around us.

"That's ok, don't worry." He replied in the most polite tone; a complete change from my first day. He offered his hand again, and like the idiot I was, I just stared at it as if it was the strangest specimen that ever existed.

He coughed, waking me from my trance, and making me abruptly jump to my feet. There was absolutely no need to prolong my idiocy.

"Uh, thanks anyway." He seemed distracted as I thanked him. The rest of the world seemed to vanish, encasing us in our own little bubble. I felt exposed to his gaze. All of my secrets were laid out in front of him. My mind was consumed by only one thought. I _had_ to get away from Edward. Preferably before he noticed anything.

"You have something on your forehead."

Too late.

His long slender fingers reached out, but my hand beat his to its goal.

"Uh, it's probably nothing, sorry for bumping into you." I tried to play it off by just rubbing my hand across my forehead and adjusting my hair so it partially covered my face in one swift motion. I tried my absolute best to make it seem like it was the most casual thing in the world, but I don't think I succeeded.

"I said it was my fault, don't worry." His voice washed over me, and for a moment, I almost gave in and looked him in the eye, but I resisted. Besides, my cue to leave was way overdue.

"Um, I have to go." My voice came out more abrupt that I intended, but without another word I turned on my heel and headed off to the restroom.

Once inside, I drew a deep breath and walked towards a mirror. The makeup had indeed rubbed off, but only very slightly. Edward must have powerful eyesight to have been able to see this. All I knew for sure was that he was not normal, and I couldn't risk getting involved with him any more that I already was.

I reapplied another layer of makeup to make sure that my marks were perfectly hidden, then, I went to class.

Everything was more lethargic than usual, and with the resulting calmness, my anxiety increased. I could not sit without fidgeting with something, whether it was with the hem of my shirt or a pencil, I couldn't keep still. When lunch came, the sight of food made me want to hurl. I sat down next to Angela; I knew she wouldn't include me in the conversation if I didn't want to be included.

"Edward Cullen hasn't stopped staring at you since you walked in," she whispered after a few minutes.

My heart stuttered, was he still thinking about what he saw? How could I have been so stupid as to let him see? Just those thoughts made my anxiety mount.

"Are you sure?" I half-whispered in response.

"Bella, it's kind of obvious once you've noticed."

As discreetly as I could, I risked a small glance over my shoulder. He was staring at me intently, once again making me feel like I was a puzzle he couldn't figure out. Hopefully he never would.

"Angela, I don't feel well, I'm going to go work on my painting or something."

"Do you need me to come with you?"

"No, but thanks for offering." I quelled her concern and made my way towards the exit.

Mrs. Andrews wasn't lying when she said I would need the key to her classroom.

I went in and closed the door behind me. My canvas sat there at the back of the classroom, covered by a random cloth. I laughed softly as I approached it; I felt a lot like Lucy Pevensie, pulling the cloth from the wardrobe.

As I painted, my mind was overpowered by thoughts regarding the terrible dream. What the hell could it possibly mean? Worry clenched my stomach, and in an effort to alleviate the choking stress, I further dug myself into my work. I couldn't wait to see my mom. The next forty-five minutes or so were occupied by me mixing colors, and combining them on the canvas. I didn't know what I was painting; I only saw the harmony of the various shades and tints. I floated away, consumed by the mystery of the image that was beginning to take shape.

When I finally forced myself to come back down to earth, I stepped back to observe my work in progress—a horrific sight met my eyes. While I had let my mind wander, my hands did the same. I had painted my mother being carried away by that black winged creature while I was stranded on the street, reaching up to her. Everything looked exactly as it was in the dream, and so incredibly real. Even the tears on my face made me believe that I could just wipe them away and I would feel them on my fingers. My breathing began to speed up as I examined my mother. She looked dead, and her eyes stared back at me (the real me) as penetrating and terrible as if I was dreaming all over again.

If I hadn't dreamt it, I would have thought that the image was quite poignant; however, this was obviously no ordinary image. I looked down at my hands, which were stained with paint. What the hell had I done? Was this just a coincidence?

A knock at the door jerked me out of my thoughts. I looked up to find Edward standing in the doorway, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you…" a smile was barely visible on his lips.

"Edward, what are you doing here?" Trying to ignore the feeling of excitement when I said his name, I quickly bent down to pick up the cloth to cover up the painting as fast as I could. I felt like a child caught in an act of mischief, but this just wasn't an act, and the painting was more than just a painting. My deepest instincts tended to be right. I hurriedly gathered my supplies; the brushes helped produce something I never wanted to look at again; their paint was a disease I did not want to get infected with.

"I was passing by and I took advantage of the opportunity to apologize."

I paused on my way to the sink, my hands full of dirty brushes, pallets, towels etc. What was he talking about?

"Huh? Uh… I mean, what for?" was my brilliant response.

He gave me a small smile, "For my rude behavior last Monday of course."

A couple of paintbrushes fell from my hands, "Oh."

With the smile still in place, he swept into the room (literally, there was no other way to describe it), and picked up the fallen paintbrushes. My breathing hitched at his close proximity.

"Thanks, um, could you bring those to the sink, please?" I really needed some distance between me and him.

He followed me to the sink, and while I washed the supplies I used, he casually leaned against the counter and elaborated on his apology.

"I wasn't myself that day and I'm very sorry you had to witness that. I didn't introduce myself properly, as I should have done."

He sounded so sincere and so intense about it, that he could have just confessed that he was a terrorist, and I would have forgiven him.

"Its fine, apology accepted." I glanced at him at the same time his face broke into a heartbreaking grin. I wished I had a smile like that.

His gaze caught mine, and for a moment nothing else existed, but the moment his eyes traveled up to my forehead, my undivided attention was given to the messy brushes in the sink.

"Oh, and by the way, you really shouldn't skip your meals." He left something next to the sink, and left.

Once I was done, I risked a glance at what Edward had left me—an apple.

He had left me an apple.

Was this his way of showing atonement?

I stared at it, completely amazed that this, this guy who barely knew me, would show such a gesture. I had no idea what to call it.

The bell rung, leaving me no time to further think things through. I dried my hands, threw the apple into my bag and ran to biology feeling butterflies in my stomach the whole way.

Once in the classroom, I pushed the fluttery feeling aside and made way for something more important, the painting.

I had really not intended to paint that, maybe because I was thinking about the dream? No, I didn't think so. I didn't just let my mind wander, I was in a complete trance, nothing interrupted me until I actually resurfaced into the real world by a conscious decision, and even then, I really had to force myself to break from it. It was something more than a trance. I felt nervous for some reason, the feeling mounted until my insides started shaking. I hardly noticed the seat next to me was being occupied. Would my mother arrive soon?

"Are you okay?"

His voice made me jump. I turned towards Edward, and like last Monday, his chair was as far away from mine as possible.

"Uhh, yeah… I'm fine." I hardly heard myself respond, my mind was a million miles away.

"Are you sure?" I heard deep concern in his voice, something I was surprised to hear. Regardless, his concern was not important now. My mom was. I had the most terrible sense of foreboding rooted deep in my heart. Something was not right.

"Yes" was my curt answer.

He apparently got the hint that I was not in the mood for talking.

Mr. Banner walked into the room and began the lecture.

I absently took notes—literally. I had absolutely no understanding of the concept that he was explaining. Each second on the annoying clock over the board dragged on for an inconceivable amount of time.

The sense… I didn't even know what to call it. A premonition, maybe? I had no idea. Whatever it was, it mounted until I could hardly contain it. My hands started sweating, and I rubbed them on my jeans to help myself relax.

I jumped, again, when I heard the door open, and I saw the school principal walk in.

"I'm sorry Mr. Banner, I need Isabella for the last part of class," he said with such authority that left no room for questions. Mr. Banner, simply motioned for me to follow Mr. Mathews, he looked as bored with his lecture as the students were.

With trembling hands I picked up my things and ignoring Edward's intent gaze (along with the rest of my classmates), followed Mr. Mathews for the second time.

The feeling of foreboding was so great now that I was nearly sick with it.

Once we were in his cold office, he offered me a seat. I sat down gracelessly and waited for him to speak.

His face was somber, even more than the time when he talked to me about the false genetic disease.

He finally took a deep breath and took the plunge, "Isabella, your mother has just been in a serious car accident. Your father…" he continued talking, but to me, his voice slowly drifted away.

I finally understood my anxiety. If she wasn't dead, then she was going to die. I had little time with my mother left.

The weight of my world came crashing down on me.


	6. First Contact

10

Chapter 5 First Contact

I bolted out of the room. I heard the distant voice of Mr. Mathews calling me back, but I didn't care.

I felt sick. The dream. The painting. They had indeed been a sign, and I had been too stubborn to admit it to myself. Now, it had cost my mothers life.

I burst out a side door of the building, just in time to puke into the grass beside the sidewalk. _Why was this happening?_

When I was done, I wiped my mouth, and ignoring the burning of my own stomach acid in my throat, I ran to my truck and drove to the hospital.

I pushed my truck to its limit; I could hear it groan and complain.

I didn't give a damn.

I was crazed by the idea that my mother was dying; my mind was so utterly absorbed by thoughts of my mother that it seemed like only a few seconds had passed when I was parking in front of the hospital.

I stormed inside and immediately spotted my father.

"Bella? You're here so soon?"

I disregarded his comment. "How is she?"

He shook his head, "I don't kno—"

"How can you not know ? You haven't asked? Weren't you here when they brought her in?" I was in hysterics, everything was shaking. I soon realized that it was me that was shaking.

"Bella!" Charlie stopped my questioning with a stern voice that was riddled through with so much pain, that it forced me to stop and really look at him. His countenance held pure anguish, then, I looked at his bloodshot eyes.

I finally understood.

The reason he had spent all this time alone after my mom. He still wasn't over her. He was still as much in love with her as the day he married her. To be so tied to a person who had moved on, I couldn't begin to imagine the pain he must have gone through the day she left him with me as a baby in her arms. I didn't even want to think about the torment he was going through right now.

I was revolted with myself for being so selfish. What was going on with me? Since when had I become so careless?

I looked into his watery eyes, "Dad?"

He shook his head.

My stomach dropped to the floor, "No— she's not…?

"No, no, but it's bad. So bad. All I know is that she had some massive internal bleeding problem, many broken bones, some even beyond repair, I think. Her chances of surviving the surgery are low." He looked lost and defeated.

Trying hard to blink my own tears back, I quickly wrapped my arms around him.

"You don't know how sorry I am, dad, I had no right to talk to you like I just did."

"I understand kiddo. It shows you care about your mother, don't do it again though."

"I promise I won't. How long will she be in surgery?"

"Dr. Cullen told me it was going to be a long procedure. Around eight hours."

I nodded numbly, and prayed as fervently as possible to whatever god there was that my mother would make it through.

Something registered in my mind, "Dr. Cullen?"

"Yes, you probably know his kids; they're around your age. Good looking kids too, best behaved lot I have ever come across." He said all this in a detached voice.

So Dr. Cullen is Edward's father.

That was the last coherent thought I had for pretty much the rest of the day. I followed my father to the waiting area and we sat there in a cold, heavy silence. I zoned out, my mother occupying my thoughts entirely.

I hated myself. I was nearly positive that I was probably the most stupid being on the planet. I had all the signs, all the information, and I deliberately made myself so blind to the point of denial. Now someone I loved had to pay the price.

Even worse, I was reduced to the status of a child due to my condition. I depended on my mother for everything. She was my rock; she made everything incalculably easier to bear. If she were to go…

With out delay, my mind blocked the horrible thoughts that threatened to eat away at me like the plague.

I emerged from my inner turmoil in desperate need for a distraction. I glanced at my father's watch which read 6p.m. My mother was not due out for another five hours.

"Dad?" I asked tentatively.

His body jerked alive in response, as if woke from a deep sleep.

"Hmm?" was his grunted response.

I loathed myself for daring to ask him, but I had to, "Dad what exactly happened?"

He sighed a painful sigh, and put his face in his hands. I didn't expect a response.

I was surprised when he did answer me.

"When she got to the airport she rented a car. God knows why she didn't bother to call before she got here to even let me know she was coming, anyway, a passerby drove by your mothers wreck and immediately called the station. When we arrived to inspect the crime scene, I saw your mother…your mother…" he closed his eyes with the pain of remembering the image of the accident. I understood him only too well.

I wrapped my arm around him and rested my head on his shoulder. I didn't push him for more. I couldn't.

He, however, somehow mustered up the strength to keep going, "Bella, there's something else, when we investigated the crime, there were signs on the car that this was no ordinary accident. We aren't even sure that it was another car that hit her."

I drew a shaky breath, "what do you mean?"

"Bella, we are nearly positive that this was no accident. This was murderer." Unshed tears welled in his eyes, while mine flowed freely.

This was so much more severe than I had originally thought.

I hugged my father tightly, "Where did this happen?"

"Right on Canary road, near Jackson." Somehow, without ever having been there, my gut told me that I knew its location.

Charlie and I sat there in silence for a few minutes. This time, I couldn't bear it.

I needed to get out of there.

I looked at my dad, who was staring at the wall without really seeing it. "Dad, I'm going home to make something to eat and to drop off my school things, do you want me to bring you something?"

"No."

"Dad, you have to eat something, I'll bring you a sandwich ok?"

"Fine. Be very careful ok?"

"I will." With that, I pecked my dad on the cheek and eagerly made my way out of the hospital.

As I left I heard my mother's voice from a distant memory when I was eleven years old:

_Our Mother is always watching, She remembers everything. If you ever lose yourself and need to look back to the past, She will help. You need just ask._

What I planed to do next could easily be one of the worst ideas I have ever had.

It didn't take long for me to find the place of the accident; it was actually pretty hard to miss.

I parked and turned off the engine. I stared blankly out the window, blind to the world.

What if I couldn't find the killer, or some sort of hint? Or worse, what if once I knew the truth, I would be clueless as to what to do next?

Despite the conflict, I _had_ to know.

I gingerly stepped down from the truck and mentally prepared myself for the sight.

The wreckage hadn't even been removed. The whole place was sealed off by yellow tape, no guard, no surveillance of any kind. Everything was strangely silent, almost as if everything was waiting for my arrival.

I approached the wreck with tears stinging my eyes. My body tensed up as my senses were assaulted by what my mother felt before she was hit. I sensed the same fear, the same horror. When I ducked under the tape, the feelings emanating from the Earth attacked me with increased force.

_Get away from me! ..._

I frantically looked around for my mother…

_ARGGHHHH!_

I flinched as I heard her scream; not only was I getting her feelings, I was hearing her thoughts as well…

_She must stay safe! …_

My body begged me to run away from nothing in particular and my chest sensed a sort of impending doom, making it difficult to breathe.

I fought against the power of my mothers fight-or-flight reactions. My mother's thoughts ghosted in and out of my mind as my hesitant steps drew me nearer to the damaged car.

_I have to find her!..._

The sight of the wreck was one that would haunt my memory for the rest of my existence. The reek of caked blood reached me before I even saw it. The front of the car was unrecognizable. The driver's door was missing. One swift look around the scene revealed a twisted clump of metal that looked a lot like the door. The mere sight of misshapen door made me dizzy, _nothing _could have prepared me for the interior of the car. Blood splattered the windshield, the air bag, and several other places.

_Don't you dare! Stay the hell away from her! Oh, GOD, BELLA!..._

I was choked by the Earth's overwhelming projections of my mothers last thoughts. I tore my eyes away from the gore, and once again looked at my surroundings.

This _had_ to be a sick joke.

Whatever walls I had built around my mind to prevent from losing it crumbled. My knees gave away as the realization hit me that I was standing on the same street, on the exact spot where my mother stood in the nightmare. The towering forest on both sides of the street loomed over me, making me feel small and insignificant. I gasped as my mother's physical pain echoed through out my body. I dropped my face to my hands, the heaviness on my shoulders increased, uncontrollable sobs shook my body. My new goal in life was to walk away from myself forever.

Enough of wasting time, I needed answers. I hauled myself to my feet and trudged to the side of the road, right next to the car. I stepped off of the street, onto the Earth, knelt down and placed my hand on the soil there. For a moment, my sobs kept coming forcefully, and my mother's final moments kept haunting me, but, as the seconds passed, I fought and won control over the volatility of my emotions and those of my mother. A sense of peace slowly made its way to my heart like heat dispersing through a cold body.

I was aware of the danger in attempting a petition such as mine towards the Mother, especially for someone who was not fully matured. It could only result in my demise, but I _needed _to try, for my mother.

As I emptied my mind of all of the stress, the guilt, the only thing that was left was the ghost of my mother's thoughts and feelings. I had obviously never shared such a connection with the Mother before. And to be honest, it was _amazing._ I was aware of everything in the environment with a heightened sense of clarity. My mind was no longer in me, _I_ was no longer in me, I was _everywhere._ I formed a part of every rock, twig, leaf and tree. Their life filled me, but what stood out more than anything else, was the sense that there was a much bigger, stronger presence. Immediately, my whole being breathed in an unimaginable calm, for a moment, every single trouble in the world vanished. However, the focus I had on my request never faltered. I knew the Mother had, by some miracle, chosen to listen to me; hopefully She would be kind enough to give me what I needed.

"Please." I whispered, every fiber in me was pleading, thinking of no other thing than that of my mother's final memories.

I began to consider that She had perhaps decided not to fulfill what I asked of her, when I felt that something was being thrust into my chest. The pain of it was astounding, I didn't scream only because I couldn't. I crumpled to the ground on my side, gasping for air, my vision blurred while the stabbing pain threaded its way to my head.

"Gah!" I managed to cry out as I clutched my head between my hands, as if to keep it from exploding.

My mind was yanked backwards, and I sunk into an abyss…

"_Nearly there, nearly there!" they were coming after me; I knew it in my heart. My foot exerted more pressure on the pedal, and my body was thrust backwards from the increase in speed. My heart rate increased, I heard my own blood rushing in my ears. "Honey I'm almost there!" I whispered to no one. I turned off Jackson onto Canary…._

_SHIT!_

_This was the perfect place for them to get me. Long street, encased by tall forests on both sides, something flashed in front of me…_

_My eyes fluttered open, but it wasn't much use. Everything was foggy; I could hear muffled voices._

"_There was no point to standing in front of the car, you could have killed her, and the humans will know that there is something off about this accident!"_

"_Well it was pretty much the only way to stop her! And we could easily deface the front of the car to hide the evidence."_

_As I broke through the stupor that held me, my other senses came around too, specifically that of pain._

_I couldn't do much, I only whimpered as the pain mounted. It felt like my very bones were being crushed, which in all likelihood, was exactly the case. _

_Another strangled cry left me, the voices kept arguing, "You see? She's waking, do something, we don't have much time!"_

_The sound of screeching metal was grating on my ears. I made an attempt to move my neck, but was met with screaming pain in my muscles, which drew another cry from me. The air bag was pressing me against the ruined seat, and cut off my air supply; it was promptly removed. I gasped in pain as my breaths expanded my broken ribs._

_A frozen hand forced my face to turn up to look at the creature; I held back a cry of pain_

"_Where is she?"_

_When I didn't answer, another hand added pressure on my broken arm; drawing a small yelp from me._

"_I will ask again, where is she?" my eyes focused on the creature before me, he looked ancient, his skin as smooth as marble, white as paper. He had an appearance of fragility to him—a perfect disguise in my opinion, because it masked his lethal strength._

_Despite my pain, I managed to force out a laugh, "You will never find her, our Mother keeps you blind to her. It would be best if you quit searching, the Guard will not succeed again." I drew in gasped breaths, I had little energy left._

_The anger in him burned with such intensity, that I could have sworn that it pierced my very soul._

"_You fool, we will find her eventually, she will not be hidden forever. Too bad you won't be here to see it happen."_

_Before I could utter a cry of resistance, he grabbed by broken arm again and began to twist._

_The pain was of an inconceivable magnitude, I let out a shriek that did nothing to ease the torture I was being put through. I begged for darkness to take me. Slowly, the comfort of unconsciousness was wrapped around me like a warm blanket…_


	7. Limbo

22

Chapter 6 Limbo

Coming back to myself was not very pretty. My head felt as if three pounds of really sensitive mush had been thrown into my skull, but that was nothing compared to what followed. Raw, excruciating pain slammed throughout my bones, choking me to the point where nothing existed but the torture I was being put through. I felt my heart pounding within my ribcage, my blood racing through my system, then abruptly more pain speared through my muscles. Gritting my teeth, I forced back the screams that were threatening to explode from my mouth, like the outpour of water through a broken dam. Nothing but small whimpers escaped me. The world was spinning uncontrollably, and my eyes were being stabbed by the bright daylight . I was vaguely aware of my attempt to push myself to a sitting position despite the agony screaming from my bones. Nausea threw the turbulent world in to even more of a chaotic frenzy. My weakened arms trembled dangerously by the effort of supporting my weight, until giving away, my body collapsed hard onto the ground.

If the pain before was only unbearable, now it was so severe that there was not a single cell in my being that did not pray for some form of unconsciousness. I rolled over to my side, dry heaving onto the ground; the nausea was intense enough that I wanted to puke all of my insides out, so long as it would stop the spinning sensation in my head. The exertion involved in fighting the colossal torment from my lesions was incredibly taxing on whatever reserves of strength my fragile self still possessed. Instead of futilely fighting a losing battle, I stilled, and while the spinning diminished at a sluggish pace, my lungs allowed steady amounts of oxygen to flow into my system. My mind searched for calmness, but no matter how strenuously the search for that all-powerful peaceful feeling went on, the serenity that had possessed me before evaded me. The path was obstructed by bone-breaking pain all over my body. Frazzled thoughts, concerning the disturbing scene just witnessed crowded my head. I uttered a strangled cry as the agonizing pain incremented in my bones.

"Gah!" I shrieked as I felt my ribs being crushed, one of them felt like it was twisting inside of me.

Wincing, I lifted up my shirt — and was sickened at the sight of my ribs. They weren't broken, in fact they were still intact, but my skin was blackened by the worst bruising imaginable. My joints locked of their own accord, fearing any sort of movement would worsen my condition.

Crap.

I lifted the jean covering the leg that hurt the most, and sure enough, it was covered in nasty bruising on the exact place where my mother's leg broke.

If my ribs looked this nasty, the rest of me was sure to look a lot worse. I begged my muscles to cooperate with me, but the moment my legs were put under pressure in order to stand, I collapsed. Mom had always emphasized the dangers of revisiting memories, and at long last, her insistent warnings made sense. Getting other people's memories from the Mother was precarious, because not only did one witness the event, but one had to _experience _it. Such an experience marked a person (to a lesser extent) in the same way his or her host was marked. Only those who were mature enough to handle memories were safe from the unspeakable damage that could befall a body. My mother had told me that many of our kind were taken by the memories they decided to relive, making it nothing short of a miracle that I survived.

My actions, though, however inane they might have been, were not done in vain. The Mother provided me with more than just a glimpse of the bastard that practically murdered my mom. Sadly, my worst concerns were no longer "what if's", now that I had the identity of the man, I a) had no clue as to how to find him b) I had no idea of what I would do if I _did_ find him, and c) I realized that I had nowhere near as much power to retaliate.

For once, the familiar repulsion of what was to become of me did not plague me, because clearly, this creature was far from human, so it was not in _my_ best interest to remain human.

_Just like the Cullens…_

Even when taken aback by my own thoughts, it was impossible for me to deny the similarities that existed between the killer and the Cullens. Both were ghastly pale, frigid to the touch (according to the memory), inhumanly attractive (though the man in the memory was a more sinister form of attractive), and had unusual eyes. This final point was where they differed: the Cullens had golden eyes that apparently shifted to black, and the man had the most hideous blood red eyes that had ever graced the planet.

Somewhere, in the back of my approach to this problem, logic kept pushing that they had to be human—they had the appearance of a human, what else could they be? But, in my own hypocrisy, I was reminded that if I wasn't going to be human for much longer, then the possibility of other supernatural creatures was highly probable.

No sooner than the idea that the Cullens could be more than what they appeared to be solidified itself, automatically it was shoved from my brain— it was simply too absurd. Out of nowhere, the thought of Charlie interrupted my train of thought, so without another glance at the crime scene, I constrained myself to stand while attempting to disregard the stabbing pain. After testing the strength of my stomach, I limped back to my truck and drove home.

Maybe it was because I was highly perturbed with my mothers impending demise, or perhaps it was because my whole nature had been altered from calm to paranoid. In any case, it didn't matter. My nerves were sensing everything to the most acute degree. The silence, once comforting, was now brooding with an untold threat. There was no way to hide what I knew; and that could easily destroy the walls and defenses I had worked so hard to put up.

The house did not feel the same, it felt…desolate. I took the opportunity to asses all the damage done to me by taking a shower. Needless to say, I now had a sickening purple-ish/black color theme, and my face practically screamed Domestic Abuse. The bruising didn't cause my face to swell, however it was still nasty enough that no normal amount of makeup was going to cover it up. The frosting was added to the cake when I realized that I couldn't do _anything_ without wincing or limping.

How the hell was all of this supposed to stay hidden from Charlie? Let alone, the rest of the world? I began fussing with the makeup I had gotten to cover my earthen marks. It took me over an hour to make sure that everything was decently covered up.

When the realization hit me that I had probably spent way too much time "getting Charlie's food", I finished getting dressed, and practically hobbled downstairs to prepare something for him, eager to return to the hospital.

When I glanced at the clock my eagerness made sense— it was eight in the evening.

"Shit." I cursed under my breath. I grabbed the food, and went out to my truck. Ominous clouds loomed across the sky, and a chilling breeze filled me with nothing but a dark presentiment. As I drove to the hospital, a heavy drizzle began to fall, and I prayed that this meant nothing.

I hated hospitals. They always reeked of illness and death, and yet, there was no way I could just leave without my mother.

I found my dad in the same position that I left him in.

Nothing had changed, if anything, he looked a little more depressed.

"Dad?" I whispered, in an effort to avoid startling him. He didn't answer, not one grunt or demonstration that he was still alive. His blank stare kept drilling a hole in the wall across from us.

"Dad?" I repeated louder this time, drawing a response from him.

"Hhmm?" he shook awake and grunted in response.

"Here is the food I brought you." I handed him the Tupperware.

He looked at the container as if I had just handed him Pandora's Box, "I'm not hungry." He grumbled lifelessly before returning his dead stare to the wall.

"Dad, you have to eat." I insisted, handing him the Tupperware again.

With reluctance clear in his eyes, he reached for the container and began to absently nibble at its contents.

"Do you know anything new?" the question came out before I even realized that I was speaking it.

"No, but she's due out in a few hours." His monotonous voice responded. He hardly looked at me, something for which I was thankful; the makeup probably didn't properly conceal my abused face, though I spent a great deal of time making sure that it did. Taking a risk such as that would be incredibly stupid.

I couldn't do anything as Charlie gradually shut himself off from the rest of the world and slowly nibbled at the food I had brought him. As if to prove how much we were related to each other, I did the same thing. I retreated into myself and let my mind descend into the Land of Torment and Eternal Darkness. My thoughts were entirely too depressing to relate.

"Mr. Swan?" Dr. Cullen's smooth but stern voice jerked us out of our thoughts. Charlie immediately jumped up like a statue brought to life. Ignoring my complaining muscles and bones, I tried to stand, but I unwillingly let out the smallest cry of pain. It was not meant for anyone else to hear, Charlie was so distracted anticipating news of my mom, but Dr. Cullen's eyes were drawn towards me. His stare shot through my defenses like a bullet through glass, and only one thought was present in my mind.

_He could see._

Anxiety finally claiming him, my dad answered Dr. Cullen's call, "Yes, how is she?"

I could see the hesitation in his eyes as he forced himself to look at my father instead of me. My stomach twisted in nervousness.

"We have successfully managed to stop all internal bleeding, any broken bones have been reset, and her other injuries have received the necessary care." I wasn't sure if it was just me, but Dr. Cullen sounded eerily cool, calm, and collected. The way he spoke coupled with an expressionless face clearly gave the impression that he was all business. I didn't like it. It made me think that he didn't really care about my mother, let alone any one else that came under his care. Obviously a doctor couldn't get attached to his patients, but what happened to actually worrying for a patients well-being and comfort during their ailments? Surely, being so detached couldn't be so good?

As if on the same thought, I heard my dad sigh in frustration, "Will she be ok?

Dr. Cullen visibly hesitated, and his cool façade broke. I guiltily rejoiced that my mother wasn't in the hands of some cold, unfeeling stranger.

"Mr. Swan, I have to be honest, Renee has lost a lot of blood, and there were several severe internal injuries, as of this moment she has to be kept under heavy sedation to help her brain heal itself and hopefully prevent any more swelling. Though we managed to fix most other injuries, her chances right now are not good" He looked as if he had just delivered my mothers death knell.

I knew that I looked as if I just had the wind knocked out of me, indeed, that's exactly how I felt. Although it was sort of already known to me that my mother was pretty much close to her death, a very big part of me still hoped that my mother was out of any danger.

Charlie looked a lot worse than I did. Dr. Cullen's Sentence of Doom had completely done him in. after whispering "thanks doctor" in the most broken voice I have ever heard, his shoulders hunched and he slowly lowered himself down into his chair. Dr. Cullen's eyes darted to me, before turning his back and walking away, leaving me to stare at his retreating form. One look at my dad, and I knew that from that moment on _this _Charlie would be forever ingrained in my memory. He looked _old_ and lost, like a child who had suddenly found out that his family had been taken from him.

And I had no idea what to do.

A parent was supposed to be a child's rock no mater what age, it is comforting to know that you always have that person to lean on when things in life go horribly astray.

But as I watched my dad's hunched back shake with quiet sobs, I suddenly felt as if I was floating on my own with this problem.

Awkwardly, I put my hand on his shoulder, "Dad, we have to go home for the night," I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, which read 11:23.

"I can't leave her here." was his simple answer. I went with another tactic,

"I know dad, but I have school tomorrow and you need to call Phil."

With that, he lifted his hands from his face and looked at me his expression was so vulnerable that I had to look away.

"Can't— can't you do it?" what could I respond to that?

"Dad, I don't think that is the best idea—"

"Please, do this for me." His pleading eyes pled into mine. He had unknowingly given me a card, and I pulled it.

"Ok, but you have to come with me for the night?"

I saw contemplation in his expression, "Fine."

We walked to the parking lot and wordlessly made our ways to our respective vehicles.

Once we were home, everything carried a silence that seemed impossible to break. In an effort to stall, I went into the kitchen, washed some of the dishes I had previously left there, and finally turned to the phone. My hand reached for it but inside I was thinking _should I really do this?_

I walked to the living room and found my dad staring blankly at the TV, which was turned off. Silently, I took a seat next to him, not speaking, too afraid to break the silence.

However, the silence would eventually be broken, might as well do it now,

"Dad, are you sure you don't want to do it?" I waited, but received no answer.

"Okay I'll do it then." I spoke mostly to myself as my finger shakily punched in the number.

It rang, and rang, then finally on the fourth ring a very groggy voice answered,

"Hello?"

"Phil, its Bella." My voice was steadier than I felt.

"Bella? Hi, did Renee get there ok? I know she left to see you in such a hurry as if she was being chased by the devil himself."

By that moment, tears began to prick my eyes, "Phil," the trembling in my voice was impossible to conceal.

"Bella?"

"Phil, it's horrible, my dad says that when she got here, instead of calling she rented a car. On her way to Forks she crashed and—"

"WHAT! Oh my god, no. How is she? She's not, you know —"his voice was thick with what I recognized as anguish. He almost literally had to choke his words out.

I was sobbing now, "No, thankfully she's not dead, but she's been through surgery and, it's bad."

"Ok listen Bella, I should be there within a couple of days. How is your father?"

"He's as well as to be expected."

"Ok, well, I'll see you soon. Take care."

The line disconnected.

"Bye." I whispered. Everything went back to silence, only broken by my occasional sniffle.

After a while, I told Charlie goodnight, pecked him on the cheek and went up to my room. I strived to get some much needed sleep, but every time I would close myself to the blackness that was supposed to comfort me, my mothers penetrating dead gaze stared up at me in the rain. Small whimpers left me as I adjusted my bruised body on the bed, but it seemed that comfort wanted to stay as far away from me as possible. Willing myself to ignore the throbbing pain, my gazed rested vacantly up at my dark ceiling. Time distortion followed, the pattering of the rain on the roof became the dull white noise that occupied my comatose state. Sometime later, it could have been five minutes, an hour, or three, darkness claimed me, and I fell into a painful sleep.

The morning brought with it absolutely next to no improvement on my battered body. Most of the bruising had receded, but only marginally. Instead of purely purple, a disgusting yellowish-green had taken over the edges. My face, it seemed, only worsened. The bruising was not as bad as the day before; most of it was yellowish-green excepting the areas that were affected the most. But my marks had strengthened in color, forcing me to use massive amounts of makeup to hide everything.

School required a vast amount of patience on my part. News about my mother's critical condition spread like wild fire.

Everyone watched me, apparently waiting for something to happen. Were they waiting for me in my zombie-like state to start eating people's brains out? Probably not, but they did treat me like a time bomb. Strange was the understatement of the decade, whenever I would walk down the hall, people parted the way as if I was Moses parting the Red Sea, leaving me free to limp through the sea of people. Except for an occasional "sorry about your mom" everyone mostly avoided me like the plague. Even Angela ate her lunch in silence, while I mainly pushed food around on my lunch tray.

Painting was as hard as ever. I yearned for the haze that had possessed me last time, but my mind refused to let me fall again. Without my permission, my body slowly turned itself to look at the offensive painting I created not long ago. It sat there in the dark corner of the classroom, shrouded by the cloth I had pulled over it.

"_Come look at me."_ It said. Okay, maybe the haunting canvas wasn't actually talking, but I couldn't deny the sudden itch in my fingers, and the urge that came over me to go and uncover the painting. With a faltering resistance, my feet took me to the canvas. With quivering hands I carried the painting over to the stand on which I painted it, and let the cloth fall to the floor. My eyes lingered on the dark thing that was carrying my mother into the dark sky.

_What the hell was it?_

What ever it was, it sent chills up my spine. Shivering, I turned to the window, compelling myself to go to it in order to avoid looking at my creation. While staring at the drizzle outside, a few tears escaped my eyes. Ever since my mother landed in the hospital something hung heavily in my heart. There was no name for it; I only knew it was a mixture of pain, fear, and an inexplicable sense of loss. Everything in me screamed that danger was fast approaching, sadly, nothing told me what I had to be ready for.

My feet led me back to the painting, instead of looking at my mom, I looked at myself. Without thinking, my fingers traced along my outstretched hand to my tear-streaked face.

_How could I have done this?_

The bell interrupted my brooding. My body operated as if on autopilot. I took biology as an opportunity to distract myself. However, I couldn't ignore the moment Edward entered the room and took his seat next to mine. Nothing had changed between him and I. He still sat as far away from me as possible, and I began to unsuccessfully pretend that he didn't exist.

Mr. Banner began the lecture, and I took copious amounts of notes. I submerged myself in the world of viruses.

My ears barely registered the bell signaling the end of class, the classroom was half empty when I finally came back to my senses. While the students filed out, I took my own sweet time in gathering my things into my bag. As I reached for my pen, a pale hand appeared seemingly out of nowhere over mine. My hand froze under his, and reluctantly, I looked up. Sadness was evident in his eyes, "I'm sorry," Edward said softly, retrieving his hand. Even though his hand was icy, it left a warm sensation on mine.

"I heard about your mother."

I didn't expect this, yet I heard myself answering, "Your dad told you?"

"No—well, yes, but everyone knows about it as well, so I would have found out anyway." He looked oddly uncomfortable, as if he felt guilty about something, but I knew he was entirely blameless. It was when he began looking pointedly at my face that I ducked down, letting my hair shield me from his prying eyes.

"Well thanks, I guess." I made a move to turn and leave, when his hand caught my wrist, making me slowly turn back to him.

"Are those bruises?" his question was like a punch straight to my gut.

My sleeve had unexpectedly risen up a little higher than it was meant to, making some of the bruising on my forearm visible to him.

_Shit._

"Uh… I fell." feeling just like a deer stuck in the head lights, I looked up at him with widened eyes.

"You're really not good at lying, what happened?" His eyes betrayed worry, and a possible hint of anger.

"I'm sorry Edward but I don't see how that's any of your business." I tried wrenching my arm from his grasp but his hand tightened around my wrist. Not enough to hurt me, but enough to let me know that he wasn't going to let me go that easily.

_What the hell am I going to do now?_

The moment he began raising the sleeve up my forearm, his eyes widened and anger blazed in his eyes as he looked at my fading bruises. I took his moment of bewilderment to wrench my wrist from his strong hold, and hastily covered my arm with the sleeve.

"What happened Bella?" He made a move towards me, hand outstretched as if to grab my arm again, I took a step back.

This made him stop. A horrified expression came over his face, as if he was just barely realizing what he was doing, and took a half step back, worry colored his countenance.

"They're on your face too." His statement made me hide myself from him, wondering how on earth he managed to see through all the makeup I had spread on my skin. And like the stupid person I was, I simply stood there, debating whether I should run from the room or not.

"Bella, are you ok? Who did this to you?" My anger flared at his last question for some unknown reason.

"No one did anything to me, just leave me alone and don't tell anyone about what you saw." My voice pathetically took on a begging tone by the end of my statement.

Edward looked torn, but it was clear that underneath was determination.

"I can't do that. someone is hurting you. You have to tell someone."

"Edward, I already told you that no one is hurting me. Why do you care anyway?"

I blurted out the last question before I even thought about it. I saw his eyes widen at my question, mirroring my own. When he didn't answer I pleaded again,

"Please just don't tell anyone." He ran his hand through his hair, and his eyes took on a frustrated, indecisive expression.

"Why?"

His question stumped me.

Should I tell him the truth, even when I didn't truly know who he was? I guess I could—if I had a death wish.

Desperate to make him understand my need to keep my cards under the table, I tried once more.

"Please," I detested the weakness that infused my voice, "nobody can know." I realized that we had subconsciously stepped closer to each other.

His face depicted the raging war that I was sure was going on inside, I could only pray that the outcome would be in my favor.

"Fine," I felt my body visibly relax, "just know that you can come to me if you ever need any help."

I searched his gaze for any sign that he might be lying, but I saw nothing but worry, and surprise at his sudden offer.

Wordlessly, I nodded and turned to leave, however my plans to exit the room without hurting myself were thwarted by the desk that jammed its corner into my stomach.

"Ow! Ow, crap! Why does this keep happening to me?" The complaining tone in my voice was evident as I wrapped my arms around my mid-section. Out of thin air, stone cold arms covered my own,

"Are you alright?" The velvety smoothness of his voice washed over me again, a trace of humor could be detected.

"Yeah, I think so." I tried to get out of his embrace, but his iron strength did not release me.

"At least let me be sure of it. I'm going to help you out to the parking lot." His statement left no room for refusal. He shouldered my bag, and led the way out of the room.

For a moment I couldn't move, where was the Edward that looked as if he wanted to kill me with is dark stare? A smile began to curl the corners of my lips.

Upon realizing that I was not behind him, Edward turned back to me at the door to the classroom with a questioning gaze, "Are you coming?"

His voice broke the spell that had maintained me immobile.

"Can you walk on your own?" He asked once I reached the door. My attempts at hiding my limp were apparently, unsuccessful.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Our walk over to my truck went without conversation, but once I was situated safely inside with my bag on the passenger seat he hesitated before closing the door.

He stood there looking as if he was unsure of what to do, when finally, his next words startled me,

"Bella, I promise you that my dad will do everything possible to care for your mother." His voice burned with a sincerity that was mirrored with an intense look in his golden eyes. I blinked furiously to keep my tears from falling. Desperately trying to avoid bawling in front of him, I nodded, turning my face away so he wouldn't be able to see me break.

"You're going to the hospital?"

I didn't trust myself enough to speak, so again, I nodded. Still looking straight at me, he reached into his own bag and pulled something out,

"I noticed that you didn't eat much today, and you're probably not going to take a detour home, so here." My stare dropped to his hand, and like before, he handed me an apple.

"It isn't much, but I would feel a lot better if you had some food in you." His voice was incredibly gentle and caring, and it totally made my insides melt. Cautiously, I took the apple from him, touched that he would worry so much.

"Why do you worry so much about me?" I really needed to control my case of word vomit.

His eyes were fixed on mine when he practically whispered, "I really don't know."

"Thank you." And at that moment, I truly meant my words. Whenever some one says 'thank you' do they really mean it? Or is it some sort of involuntary reflex drilled into everyone's heads as young kids? I knew that was my case, but this time was different. I was grateful that someone I barely knew was so willing to show some small degree of care towards me.

He simply nodded at my gratitude, and over his shoulder I spotted his family.

Talk about killing the moment.

His siblings were sending us glares that said that they wanted to burn Edward alive. All except for Alice. Her gaze was knowing with a hint of excitement.

"Edward you should go. Your siblings are waiting for you." I nodded towards them as inconspicuously as I could.

He glanced quickly their way and turned back to me, "I'll see you tomorrow."

With that, he walked to his family, who were already in his Volvo, and drove away. I couldn't move for a few moments.

_I'll see you tomorrow_

His words hung in the air like a promise, but what did that mean for me? It wasn't right for me to have felt the thrill run through me at his final statement, especially not with my mother dying at the moment. Above all, it wasn't right to feel my heart race every time he was near, to loose all train of thought every time he talked or every time he looked at me. I looked at the apple he had given me, still clutched in my hands.

No, it wasn't right.

I turned the key in the ignition letting the roar of the engine drown out all thoughts of Edward from my mind. I went straight to the hospital.

I gave the nurse my mothers name at the front desk and was promptly shown to her room. Before entering the nurse told me that my mother was not going to be the best thing to ever lay eyes on. I brushed her warning aside and entered the room. The door shut behind me with a chilling echo, and I took in the sight of my broken mother.

I instantly regretted not paying any heed to the nurse's warning. My mom's face was swollen with bruising one thousand times worse than mine, she wasn't even breathing on her own, various odd tubes were stuck all over her. Over half of her body was covered in a cast, and dozens of stitches covered the rest. My feet slowly trudged over to her, taking her hand in both of mine, I sat on the hard stool next to her bed and cried softly into the mattress.

What would I do if she were gone?

My eyes dried up some time later. I just sat there chewing on the apple that Edward had given me, absent from all coherent thought.

I came back to myself when my father's warm hand came down on my shoulder.

"Honey, please go home and get some rest, you look exhausted."

And I was. Seeing my mother so—so lifeless had drained me from whatever reserves of energy I had left.

"Ok dad, but you have to come home too. Don't stay here too late. Kay?"

He gave a guy like grunt in response. I freed the stool for him, before I left I hugged him so tightly as if to pour into him my understanding, and my need of him in these dark times.

That night, my mother's crash plagued my dreams.

I woke with an uncharacteristic buzz of energy the next morning.

_I'll see you tomorrow_

I knew it wasn't healthy. This was the worst time for any sort of distraction, but my mind kept shoving those four little words to the front of my brain, and my whole being felt more alive than ever. I was still weighed down by the sight of my mom on the hospital bed, yet everything in me told me that Edward would be there for me, weird as that sounds.

However, for all of my hoping, his famous shiny Volvo was conspicuously absent from the parking lot.

Suddenly I wasn't feeling so optimistic anymore. My classes dragged, and I had an even harder time trying to concentrate. When lunch arrived, one swift look told me that the Cullen Corner was absolutely deserted.

Feeling utterly betrayed. and for some reason, played, I told Angela that I wasn't very hungry and left for Mrs. Andrews' classroom. I used the key to get in, but once inside, I had no idea what to do. I grabbed my sketch book and began furiously drawing. Did my reserves of stupidity come from the Bottomless Pit of Stupidity? What was I thinking, when I let him get under my skin like that? Worse still, why had my heart hurt when I realized he was not in school?

Furious at myself for acting like a mindless flirt, I sketched furiously through my lunch and Painting periods. When the bell rang for my final class, I put my pencil down to observe my work—only to find Edward staring back at me from the page. I groaned in frustration, and slammed the book shut and, like I was five all over again, practically stomped to class.

My anger only abated when I found myself driving to the hospital; by then it had melted to what it had been before, a profound feeling of despair.

I hardly paused to give the nurse at the desk my mother's name, wanting to just go and be with her as much as I could. When I entered the room, the sight of her broken body hit me head on just like the first time. But when I lowered myself into the stool, my eyes stayed dry. Maybe it had something to do with the white room, or the fact that I was in a hospital, but every time I stepped into an environment like this, it seemed to suck the life out of me like a leech. Placing my hand in my mother's, I hardly noticed how cold her skin was, like the rain at night, the steady beeping of the heart monitor became white noise. A constant reassurance that my mom was still alive. I lost all notion of time, the only thing that existed for what seemed to be a very long time was my mom, the heart monitor, and I. During that time I came to notice how everyone seemed to desert me in one way or another. My mother was teetering on the precipice between life and death, my father was so consumed in his grief that he hardly came to notice my existence in his house.

_Edward…_

My anger from before flared again.

_I'll see you tomorrow._

I cradled my head in my hands, hoping that it would keep that train of thought from resurfacing ever again. It was incredibly ridiculous of me to even assume that I had any right to inquire about Edward's whereabouts. After all, he was nothing to me, he couldn't mean anything to me.

That was when every machine in the room went crazy. The heart monitor was screaming and the breathing machinery was doing only God knows what. My body jumped up, knocking the stool over to the ground, but that was all I could do. The noise was so chaotic and grating on my ears, the only thing my body would do was just stand there as I watched my mother struggle for her life. Somewhere in the back of my consciousness I heard the door being slammed open, and rough hands ushered me out of the room. It was only when I returned to my self that I realized my surroundings were that of the hallway, not my mom's room. I ran to her window, horrified at the utter pandemonium occurring inside.

"Please, no." I found myself whispering to no one.

"Isabella?" I turned to see Dr. Cullen rushing towards me.

"I—I don't know what happened, I was just sitting next to her and then everything went crazy." My voice sounded weird; it was hollow, like I wasn't even in myself.

"Where is your father?"

"He's picking up my mother's husband." I said automatically

With a curt nod, Dr. Cullen rushed inside, and again, I was left with nothing but the window displaying the madness that was going on.

I took to pacing outside her room but eventually I gave that up too, I opted for curling up against the wall across her door.

Eventually Dr. Cullen walked out looking exhausted. As if on instinct, my feet made me jump up waiting for anything to happen.

His countenance held nothing but hopelessness, I stared at him with fear eating at my insides. When he finally looked at me I began to shake my head not wanting to hear his next words.

"She's in a coma."

The news stopped the world.

Everything was running in slow motion. My back pressed against the cold wall and slowly, my knees gave away to my previous curled position on the floor. I distantly heard Dr. Cullen's voice trying to get my attention, and I forced myself to look at him, I probably looked as lost as I felt. His lips were moving but it was as if he was speaking a different language. My mind only understood the last part.

"…_she could wake. But don't get your hopes up."_


	8. Loss: Part I

**I'm sorry that I've taken so long to update! My summer has finaly begun so I will be able to write A LOT more than I was able to during the school year. Everything kept getting in the way. I promise I will update with more frequency. I spent much of my time going over the chapter so many times I practically know it by heart. I tried to concentrat on increasing the amount of conversaton occuring between the characters. Let me know if I went over board or didnt put in enough.**

**DISCLAIMER: Do I seriosly have to write this? Or do you all already know it by heart?**

**Without further ado, I present the first part of the seventh chapter...**

* * *

Chapter 7 Loss

Part I

**Two Weeks Later**

There were holes in my back.

Not really.

But Edward Cullen gave the phrase a whole new meaning. He came back the Tuesday after his mysterious disappearance and I had paid no mind to him ever since. Call me a five year old, but I was doing everything in my power to avoid him. And apparently he was doing the same with me, but he was very indecisive. His eyes followed me everywhere, and shortly after he returned, his presence was prevalent during my daily hospital visits. Everywhere I turned, there was either Edward himself or something to remind me of him. Yet, despite his proximity, it was like he was far away at the same time. All hints of unexplained tenderness vanished, he was as cold as he was on his first day, except this time, he was ever watchful. Each time he would get too close, he would back away and double the amount of time he spent staring. Our evasive dance was one that would have won the gold. To say I was creeped out is a hugantic understatement.

I wanted out.

It wasn't fair that my problems had to include Edward as well as my mother's coma and my life changing transformations, yet here I was, trying to juggle everything that life had thrown at me. Having my mother in her vegetative state meant that I now had to deal with a zombie named Charlie, and there was hardly any evidence that Phil had flown up to be with my mom and I. He practically lived at the hospital. Their countenances were grieved enough to charge the air with so much negative energy to make my heart weigh like a ton of lead.

That's what made it so difficult to carry on. People at school were always tentative about what they said around me, even two weeks after the coma. Home was like a dungeon at times, everything felt like an inescapable prison. Other times, it was very similar to a grave yard inhabited with the living dead. It was a never ending feeling of gloom and dejection that was seriously increasing my restlessness with each passing day. It was nothing short of exhausting.

"Bella?" Angela interrupted my despondent thoughts.

"Huh?"

"I just said that you look like you're in desperate need of a distraction."

My laugh was empty, "Did you just read my mind?"

She smiled, "No, but in a way, I can empathize with what you're going through. My gran was out of it for about a month before passing; she was like a second mother to me."

"How long?"

"Oh that happened a few years ago. Which is why I repeat, you need a distraction."

"You could not be more correct right now Angela, its going to make me sick to my stomach to have fun when everything around me is falling apart, but its astounding what a daily visit to the hospital could do to you."

"I know. Hey, you know that next weekend the girl's choice dance is coming up—"

"No, anything but the dance, I don't do dancing." My voice was more emphatic than I meant to make it.

Angela threw her head back and laughed, "No, I'm not forcing you to come, but Jess and I are taking a trip to Port Angeles to look for dresses. I was wondering if you might want to come and provide some moral support."

I mulled things over for a bit, contemplating whether or not visiting my mother would be possible that day.

"Do you think…?"

"I'm pretty sure that we can set apart a few minutes for you to see your mom anyway."

My mind searched for a downside, but my decision had already been made.

"Yeah, it would be best if I went, otherwise I would probably lose my sanity." I was still a bit hesitant to accept the invitation, but there was nothing that could provide a valid enough reason to decline the offer.

"Ok, so, now that we've sorted that out, lets move on to something much juicier than an outing to PA."

My face must have been the image of a question mark.

"You're not usually the one for gossip."

"And I'm not, but Bella you have to know that Edward's eyes have been fixated on you for the past two weeks?"

I groaned and dropped my face in to my hands.

"I would have to be _very _stupid and unobservant for that to have passed my attention. Has everyone noticed though?"

"What world have you been living in for the last few days? Bella that has been the topic on most everyone's minds for some time now."

My groan was muffled by my hands

"My personal participation in such trivialities has been limited of late." I dramatically colored my response.

"Yes, well, that much is obvious. Do you have any idea of what he means by it though?"

My hands dropped to my lap, "I think he wants to… that is, I… no, I don't know. It has been annoying the hell out of me though. It's like he's anticipating something, but what ever it is, it's a mystery to me."

"Talk to him."

I looked at Angela as if she had grown another head.

"Umm, nice suggestion, but no. Not happening."

"Bella, you have to, it looks like he needs to talk to you or something."

"Angela, talking to Edward Cullen is probably not the best idea ever. He can stare at me all he wants, just as long as he does not do something sick and stalkerish."

Ok, truth was, I was _really _creeped out by his persistent staring, not to mention that he was already acting in a freakishly stalkerish manner, what with my frequent run-ins with him.

"It's your choice, but I still think that talking to him would be the best shot at figuring out his problem."

"I don't have to figure anything out. By the looks of it, he's the one that needs to do the figuring."

"Yeah, well, you're at the bottom of the 'figuring thing'."

"Huh, thanks Sherlock. But I have no interest in taking part in his 'figuring thing'."

"Honey, I don't think you have much of a choice in this one."

That was enough. Anymore talk of Edward would have my heart beating so fast that it would more than likely end up in an attack.

Did I forget to mention that I was still slightly hurt (okay, more than slightly) at Edward's broken promise (again, it wasn't really a promise, but it sure sounded like one)? Yes, I was aware that I had no business demanding explanations, but the feeling that he owed me one would not shake itself from my chest.

"Ok, ok, you know what? I'm going to go away now, probably to my art class. I'll talk to my dad about the dress shopping, hopefully tonight. Do you know when we're going?"

"I still have to clear that one with Jessica, but I'll tell you as soon as I know."

"Kay, and while you're at it, why don't you help Edward with his 'figuring thing'. Hm?"

I walked out of the cafeteria leaving Angela chuckling to herself. Before walking through the door, I caught a glimpse of Edward laughing while his siblings were engrossed with their respective significant other. It was weird to see him laughing like that (it was quite shocking to see him laughing at all). His humor seemed to be one-sided.

Mrs. Andrews picked up on my humor right away.

"Feeling better today Bella?" A smile played on her face.

"Just a bit. I think I'm going to spend the class drafting a sketch, is that ok?"

"Fine, fine. I'll even extend the deadline for your next work a week."

For me, that kind of leniency was not an option. "No, Mrs. Andrews, I'll have the work finished by the end of the week."

She raised an eyebrow, "Well, I'm just letting you know that the offer stands if you need it."

"Thanks." I gave her a smile as my pencil began dancing across the page before me.

The chat with Angela made me put my own negativity aside, to be replaced by the most meaningful memories I shared with my mother; mainly those of my childhood. It wasn't an omnipotent force that occupied my mind, more like a movie showing me all the precious moments I had shared with my best friend. My mood was so light that after a few minutes I began humming. Memories played themselves out, filling me with such joy that I actually began singing. At the center of all the memories was healing of my brokenness— it recharged my dead batteries. I did little else than bask in the temporary haven that my mind gave me.

I perfected every line, curve and value.

About an hour later, I found myself sitting in the biology classroom, still sketching. The atmosphere was not the same though; Edward had managed to weasel his way into my head again.

I should have known that speaking (or thinking) of the devil will sooner or later make him appear. I bent all of my concentration on keeping my hand steady as his eyes continued to burn holes into me.

My hand shook, and I prayed that the classroom would fill up faster, so as to not be tempted

to begin to tell him to leave me the hell alone.

"Bella?" Mike's voice interrupted my musings.

Did I forget to mention that my pet dog has deluded himself into believing that he has a date with me?

"What Mike?" There was little I could do to keep my voice under control. So much for sketching therapy. Clearly I pissed someone off in a past life.

"Are you going to be free the weekend of the dance?"

My following cringe was not entirely voluntary. It seemed to be instinctual. As if something about his presence drew out the worst in me.

"Nope, I'm not going to the dance. At all." The control in my voice was unsteady. I feared that my annoyance might have shown through just a tad. I went back to my sketching in order to avoid lashing out at Mike the Innocent.

He just stood there awkwardly, staring at me as if he really did not expect my answer.

So there I was, Trying to ignore the inquisitive stare from Mike, and the burning glances from Edward. Remind me how I got into this situation?

Mr. Banner walked in and began preparing his lesson. And Mike still hadn't left me alone. Finally, not being able to contain my irritation, I snapped at him,

"Yes, Mike, may I help you?"

He blinked repeatedly (waking up from a stupor of stupidity is my guess).

"Oh, um, I'm sorry."

And with that, he hurried back to his seat, like a puppy (yes, I'm using that reference again) with his tail between his legs.

I continued my sketch, at ease, and completely ignoring Edward for the first time. Though me mentioning him completely defeats the purpose of ignoring him. I kept pondering the reasons behind the animosity I held towards Mike, whether it was biologically inclined or just really bad attitude on my part, when none other than Edward Cullen interrupted my musings.

"You know, you were a bit hard on Newton back there."

His voice was amazing. It was the smoothest of velvets, mixed in with a rich melted chocolate taste (taste?), that totally, and completely made my knees turn to butter and my stomach to a colony of butterflies. It was beautiful, and hypnotizing…and tantalizing. It made me feel all warm inside. I loved it…

and it completely pissed me off.

"Yeah, well, it's not my fault. He's the one that's been deluding himself to the point where I think he might end up annoying me to death. It's in my best interest that he stay away. I'm too young to die."

"You might want to tell Newton that, otherwise I don't think he'll get the message." Edward said through laughs.

I was about to respond; when suddenly I remembered… was this Edwards business? Did he have any right whatsoever to nose about in my lame, nonexistent, wannabe love affairs, after he mysteriously left just like that?

Um, no.

"As much as I appreciate your advice and might actually take it into account, I don't think that you should be meddling in this." My voice sounded alright, only a hint of sarcasm slipped through, but frankly I didn't care. He was the one that just left me hanging.

"You're right, my apologies. It was wrong of me to interfere about in your business." At the sound of such turn of the century language, my head acted of its own accord and made me look at him. His expression held nothing but sincere apology. As he had done so many times before, his stare disarmed me.

"Um, no. Its fine, I just took it too far." I hated the way he rendered me so weak. It made me borderline stupid in his presence.

Again, I wondered what was it about this particular guy that seemed to get to me so easily.

"Actually Bella…" I tried not to swoon when he said my name, "I have something to tell you about two weeks ago."

I immediately took up my guard, "really?"

My response must have come as a surprise to him, indeed, there was nothing about my voice that indicated any sort of ill feeling towards him, just the opposite, I decided to play dumb.

"Yes, I wanted to clear what happened the—"

"Edward, there is nothing to clear. You had to be absent for some reason or other, and that's fine. You don't have to explain yourself to me."

Thank the gods above that Mr. Banner decided to begin his lesson at that moment.

Edward couldn't say anything for the rest of the class, and when it ended, he only had the chance to utter "Bella" before I interrupted him with "Goodbye, Edward" and walked out of the room as quickly and as carefully as was possible for me.

My body was still jittery by the time I got to my truck when—

"Bella!" someone shouted behind me.

"Whoa!" My spin threw me into the door. Edward sure was persistent.

But the person who said my name wasn't Edward, but Angela.

She froze in her tracks and stared at me for about two seconds before bursting out in a fit of frenzied laughter.

"I'm so sorry, its just that your face is hilarious!" Her voice was out of breath .

"Dammit, Angela don't do that or else my father will be pressing charges for inducing my

heart attack".

Apparently my efforts to make her shut up were futile as they only made her laugh harder. Secretly though, I was laughing as hard as she was on the inside.

"Anyway, you were going to say something?" Controlling laughter, was not something I had to do everyday, and for good reason. Laughter was the last thing that could be reigned in, second only to screaming toddlers.

Angela's gasps kept coming in spurts and stutters, but she finally managed to squeeze out whatever it was that she came to say.

"The dress shopping date will be Thursday right after school."

"Who is driving over there?"

"Well, I'm going home while Jess follows you home, and then you'll come pick me up. We'll take a detour to the hospital, and then we'll be on our way."

"Sounds good, I'll talk to my dad about it."

"Kay, see you tomorrow."

I watched her walk off, glad that she had approached me with an opportunity of release from the crazy stuff that filled my life.  
Crazy however, seemed to have taken a liking to me and decided to keep me company.

Let me explain…

Upon my arrival home, I noticed that the cruiser was in the driveway along with another old Rabbit. My dad was never home before me, and ever since I had taken up residence here, nobody had come to visit.

Using the key under the eave, I let myself inside.

"Dad?"

Voices were murmuring in the living room.

"In here Bella."

I found my dad talking to some old man and a fairly cute guy.

"Bella, I hope you remember my friend Billy, and his son Jacob."

Faint memories coursed through my brain. Yes, I remembered Billy. Memories of Jacob completely eluded me though.

"Bella, it's nice to see you again." Billy held out his hand with a warm expression.

"Likewise."

After the usual formalities I went on to announce,

"I'm going to get started on dinner."

"Jacob, why don't you go and make yourself useful" Billy gestured to me.

I didn't miss the quiet conversation that passed through their eyes.

As if I didn't have any holes in me already, Jacob kept is eyes intently on me while I was making the grilled cheese sandwiches. He was noticeably tense; his hands wouldn't stop fidgeting. Finally, in order to avoid explosion, I broke the ice.

"Jacob, do you have something to say? You've been fidgeting for the last fifteen minutes."

In that moment, he froze and filled his lungs with much needed air.

"Bella, my dad knows."

The plate I was holding slipped from my hands, the color drained from my face.

_No…not this_

"I-I…uh…what?"

Jacob caught the plate, and smirked as if he was in on an inside joke.

"That's exactly what I said when he told me to tell you."

"I don't understand." If he knew—if anyone knew… I'd be done for.

"I don't understand myself, but my dad needed me to tell you that he knows, whatever that means, and that he needs you to come over sometime soon because he really needs to talk to you."

I opened and closed my mouth several times without saying anything.

"You don't know?" I felt my heart pounding in my chest.

"No, I'm just as clueless as you are."

Correction, he was clueless enough to not notice my poorly disguised distressed state.

"What does your dad want?" If he knew, the delicacy of my condition…

"I have no clue. All I know is that he was really worried, and he really needs to talk to you."

Not good. Why was my mother so hurt when I needed her the most? If he truly knew about me and how powerful he could become… then Forks was never safe for me in the first place. Billy Black was an old man; somebody like him who knew could easily be tempted.

"He also wants you to know that he means you no harm."

My head snapped up to meet his friendly eyes. Could I trust him? I suppose I could, indirectly at least. I could still be safe.

"Did he tell you if anybody else knew?"

"No. Wait, do you actually know what's going on?"

Words eluded me for a few seconds. If his father knew, then he might grasp the delicacy of

the situation.

"Yes, but it is imperative that you not tell _anybody._"

My voice announced this with forceful clarity, like a teacher reprimanding a child.

Jacob held his hands up in defense, "Hey, I got the same thing from my dad, you can trust me."

"I'm sorry Jacob, but I barely know you. At the moment I have no trust in you simply because we have no existing friendship."

He nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I understand. I take no offense to it."

"Good, because I didn't mean any."

I carried the finished sandwiches to the living room, leaving one behind for Jacob.

The rest of the night went pretty fast, Billy only stayed to finish his dinner and shortly afterwards, he excused himself along with Jacob. Charlie stayed in the living room watching

the game, while I went back to the kitchen to wash the plates.

I was met with a little surprise by the sink. A small folded note had been left there.

I quickly put all the plates in the sink and read the note:

_It was nice meeting you. Please come over soon, my dad wouldn't stop telling me how important it is for you to come. –Jacob_

Below that was the address for their house in La Push. I shoved the note into my back pocket and distracted myself with the plates.

Since when had my brains gone missing?

I had deliberately told Jacob that I understood what his dad knew.

Once in bed, my mind would hardly shut itself off. It was a miracle that I managed to make myself fall asleep.

* * *

"What the hell Angela!"

It was lunch time on the Thursday that the whole dress shopping date thing was happening. I wouldn't have minded, were it not for the fact that in my hands I was holding an invite to the Girls' Choice Dance.

"You know that I don't dance!"

She simply sighed and gave me a sheepish smile.

"Sorry. It was Jessica's idea first. Did you know that she has _devious_ powers of persuasion?"

"What? Wait no, I don't care. Angela, you know I can't go to this thing! I already turned Mike down with the excuse that I was not going. _At all_!"

"Mike… doesn't Jessica hate me because Mike is delusionaly attracted to me?"

She was visibly hesitant to answer, "Well, at first she did. But then I'm guessing you rejected him pretty badly because he practically launched himself at Jessica, so now its like she loves you or something."

"So you two conspired against me and my safety?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, it's just a dance."

"Angela I'm not going." Not to mention, that I just _couldn't _go. With each passing night, the marks on my face kept glowing brighter; to the point where they could actually shine through the make up that I now had to wear to bed.

"Oh come on, Jessica and I bought that for you!"

"And, I really am grateful for what you guys are doing for me, but I really can't go. I'll pay you both back."

Her shoulders slumped, "Ok, but you can't say that I didn't try to convince you to come. So

you can t blame me when you regret it."

I gave her a small, and hopefully not guilty, smile. "I'm still on for the shopping though."

The rest of the lunch hour passed by in silence. Angela didn't look fazed by what I told her, but I couldn't help but feel guilty that she went as far to get me an invite which I had to refuse. Before we left to our respective classes, I stopped her,

"Hey, I'm sorry that I won't go, it's just that I—"

"Don't dance. I know, but you could still come, who knows, you might even have a good time."

"I'll think about it. Hey, so you think that I could just go by myself to the hospital? You and Jessica could meet me there instead."

She looked at me strangely for a second, appearing hesitant to talk.

"Bella are you okay?"

How could I answer convincingly? It was becoming harder for me to lie lately, mainly because I had so much to hide. I couldn't help but feel like everyone who knew me, knew how to stare into my soul.

I gave her a smile, which I hope was convincing, "Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"I- I don't know, you just seem kind of- weird, I guess."

"I promise, I'm fine."

I could tell that she didn't take too well to my lies. But there was nothing else I could do. The truth was that I shouldn't have let myself get too close to people. Angela was a good person, she didn't deserve the danger that I could bring.

The rest of the day was pretty ordinary, well, as ordinary as it could be. I decided to confront Edward about his incessant staring.

The whole class was spent with me trying as best I could to focus on the lesson, and with Edward staring intently at me. His chair was as far away from me as possible, as usual.

Slowly, Mr. Banner's voice became nothing more than a monotonous drone, as I began to wait for Edward to stop violating my privacy with his eyes.

Something in me burst. I ripped out a sheet of paper from my notebook, and scribbled furiously across the first line:

(_Bella_/ **Edward**)

_Is there a reason as to why you have been following me these past few weeks?_

I couldn't be blunter. Then again, subtleness was useless to me when something was frustrating me. In a matter of seconds, I had thrown the paper across the table to Edward.

A frown distorted his features after he read it, and in less time than it should have taken him, the paper was in front of me.

**You must excuse my confusion; I have no idea what you mean.**

Irritating. Just irritating. Yet I couldn't blame him, I knew he was hiding something, and so was I.

_Please don't play dumb with me Edward, I've run into you more times than could be called normal, and you're always staring at me, or in my general direction._

His response was swift and just as infuriating.

**I still don't know what you mean.**

Stifling a groan, I quickly responded.

_Whatever. Just stop it okay? It really makes me feel uncomfortable._

Though my temper hadn't flared yet, I was very close to fuming with annoyance and frustration.

**Fine.**

Was that what I thought it was? An admission of sorts? Maybe it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine.

_Are you admitting to having stared at me for lengthy periods of time?_

**Probably.**

_What sort of response is that? It's a simple yes or no. Are you or are you not admitting to it?_

**Probably.**

_Seriously. What have you got to hide?_

**You're one to talk.**

Damn. He got me there.

_Fair enough._

**For the record, the answer is yes, and it will stop immediately.**

I smiled at my victory. Not in a gloating kind of way. I was just glad that he trusted me enough to tell me the truth about this one matter.

_Thank you._

**The question is though, what have **_**you **_**to hide?**

I pushed the note away as if it was something virulent, and looked at Edward, who looked back at me with a questioning gaze. Not wanting to remain locked into his eyes for long, I turned for the note and responded.

_I can't tell._

**Bella I'm not stupid, I just want to help. Are you still getting hurt? And what about the marks on your skin?**

My stomach dropped. How could he see? It was impossible for anyone else to notice. Most importantly of all, how could make him keep a secret?

_Are you willing to explain to me, why the handle to the office door was molded into the form of your hand, on my first day here? Or why your eyes can change from gold to pitch black in seconds?_

**You are very observant.**

_There's more, but I don't want to get into it. Are you going to explain?_

**I can't.**

_So we understand each other._

**Fine, but the offer I extended to you two weeks ago still stands. If you ever need anything, feel free to ask me.**

Obviously his offer roughly translated to: "I'll continue watching closely and will barge into your life the moment I can".

_I can't make myself trust you._

I threw the paper back to Edward and raised my hand, "May I go to the restroom?"

* * *

My truck was underwater. The torrential rain nearly blocked my view of the solitary street in front of me. The sky was almost as dark as night. Only one thought possessed my mind: I was severely compromised. Ditching the rest of biology was decidedly the best decision I had ever made since arriving in Forks.

After Edwards revelation about my marks, it was necessary to get as far away from him as possible and make a plan of action (though I had no idea where to start). I had walked into the office to excuse myself for the rest of the day, claiming that I had therapy for my feigned condition when the secretary looked up and exclaimed "Oh, just the person I needed. Your father just called. Your mom's waking."

With that, I turned and ran in the other direction, yelling "Excuse me for the rest of the day!" over my shoulder.

Leading me to the underwater world I was attempting to drive through, though I could barely call it driving. It was more like careening down a street half submerged in water. My truck's speed limit was being pushed to the maximum and I sincerely hoped one of the tires wouldn't slip and direct the truck to the nearest tree.

Could it be that my mother was actually safe? Immediately I recalled the nightmare and the painting. I saw myself in that dark street, racing to make my mother come with me. Her pale face as her eyes snapped open showing nothing but whites. Of the painting, I remembered nothing but the creature that carried her away into a stormy sky. Almost immediately I felt my stomach drop. This could very well be the end of it all.

I didn't want to be alone.

She just couldn't leave me here. Not when so much seemed to be in danger of being exposed.

Another car's headlights blinded me, as the van rounded the curb which my dad dubbed the most dangerous curb in the United States. The sound of a horn nearly eradicated my sense of hearing…

I realized two things:

It had absolutely no control on the wet pavement.

I was right in the middle of its path of destruction.

My body reacted as if it was about to drown. I sucked in air as if it was the last breath I was ever going to take. My knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. In a snap decision, I jerked the wheel to the left, which sent my body colliding with the door, and the truck off the road, speeding directly into a tree. The force of the crash threw my body forward. My head practically bounced off the dash. The pain made me dizzy and I felt a certain warmth sliding down my forehead. My vision was obstructed by black spots.

Nothing about the world made any sense anymore.

I just thought about how grateful I was that the seat belt saved my life, and how my mother would still be worried sick. Through the haze I saw that my attempts at avoiding the van had failed. In a matter of seconds I knew I was going to be sandwiched between clumps of metal.

I really wanted to see my mother.

My shoulders hunched and I braced myself for the impact of the van.

But it never came.

Someone literally materialized between my truck and the van. The screeching tires made the pain in my head mount.

"No!" my voice sounded slurred, I couldn't even talk. The force of the crash made me hit my head again. I lost the will power to stay awake. Vague awareness told me that I was lying on my side across the seat. The stench of blood assaulted my nostrils. The screeching and the crushing occurring outside faded, while the black spots grew in my vision. The passenger door opened…

"_Bella please stay with me!"_

"Huh?"

"_Stay awake!_"

My head was being cradled in a strong pair of hands. My vision was gone.

"_Bella can you hear me?"_

My body sank like a rock into the darkest chaos…

* * *

**Did you like it? or totally hate it? Regardless, make your thoughts known when you review this chapter! The second part should follow within the week.**


	9. Loss: Part II

**Hey! well I know that this took a wee bit longer than a week, but I do have a somewhat legitimate excuse this time (I hope). The back half of this chapter took a bit longer than I expected because... well you'll know it when you read it. Lets just say for now that I've never written something like that and I did my very best on this.**

**I want to thank all of my reviewers, you all made it easier to keep writing even when I felt like a failure as an author :))**

**Oh, and please stay tuned after you finish the chapter because i have a few important announcements and questions concerning future chapters.**

**DISCLAIMER: You all should know this.**

**Without further ado, I present the second part of chapter seven.**

* * *

Chapter 7 Loss

(Part II)

"_Bella?" … "Bella!"_

"_Can you hear me? Please open your eyes."_

The voice sounded so musical, so velvety, that it could have put me back to sleep. Were it not for the sick feeling in my gut. It all happened in a matter of seconds. I was buried in a world overcast with cloudiness, and with out the slightest bit of order. The rain, which should have sounded like a patter was more like a never ending roar. Then there was the pulsing pain in my head and down the side of my body. It was all gone in a second, replaced by the feel of acid running its course up my throat, causing my breathing to go in and out in stutters.

I was suffocating.

My head was turned so it faced the floor of the truck with the gentlest hands I had ever felt. There was a telltale surge of energy flowing through me,warming my skin wherever his made contact with mine. My body seemed to react instantaneously with a feeling of unexplained safety.

"_Let it out Bella, just keep breathing." _

That voice. I could vaguely recognize it, but through all the coughing, wheezing, and vomiting it was hard to think past the pain.

"_Come on, you're going to be fine."_

Whoever this person was, he was choking on his own worry. I wanted to tell him that it was all going to pass soon, but my need to breathe overpowered all other thought processes.

The world slowly became clearer. The rain became more distinct, and as I tried to convince myself that I was stocked up with an abundance of breathable air, my senses were able to gather more about my surroundings.

I was obviously still in my truck, but someone had me lying across the seat with my head cradled in their hands.

It was probably a product of my not-so-coherent mind, but the pair of hands felt incredibly strong, and held my head as if it was the most fragile thing this person could have ever held.

"Bella if you can hear me, I need you to open your eyes. The ambulance should be here soon."

Oh no.

Not him.

Please, anyone but him.

But when I opened my eyes, his burned into mine with so much concern that I could hardly find a way to form words.

"No….no ambulance. Water. Can't."

"Bella I'm afraid I don't understand you. Can you try to speak more clearly?"

I took a few breaths and focused on Edwards face. The emotion in his eyes was unlike anything I had ever seen before. It was something that burned with a volatile nature that appeared highly controlled on the outside. _He_ was the puzzle that _I _couldn't solve.

"You followed me?"

The emotional storm occurring inside him was abruptly guarded, yet an intensity still remained. He looked as if he wasn't breathing.

"I can't explain."

"Can't, or won't?"

By this point, my head was still in his hands. Testing myself for more pain and nausea, I slowly tried to lift myself into a sitting position. I was immediately pushed down.

"You hit your head pretty hard; I wouldn't be surprised if you had a concussion."

"I think I can sit up now." My response was laced with defiance, making Edward sigh in resignation. As I sat up, the unexplained energy ceased to flow though me, and I instantly wanted it back.

"Edward what are you doing here? How did you know that I was in this accident?"

He debated before answering, "Alice."

"Alice." I echoed. "Wait, what does she have to do with anything?"

He sighed, "Bella I really can't afford to talk about it."

I could relate.

"Edward, I thought you were going to stop following me."

"I was— but then Alice… I couldn't let you—." He groaned. "Why is it so hard to talk to you?"

This was irritating for some reason. I pulled down the mirror to asses the extent of my injuries while I answered.

"Me? Why do you have to constantly barge in to my life when I specifically asked you not to? I mean wh—"

I froze. The gash on my forehead was bandaged. But that wasn't the worst part. My face was clean from make up.

_Entirely _clean.

Meaning that my marks were fully visible, and their luminescence was slightly visible due to the low quantity of light.

"Shit."

Edward was looking at me. Still guarded.

"Shit." I repeated.

"I'm sorry?"

"You bandaged my head?" my voice was steadily rising in volume. My hysteria and paranoia ran unchecked.

"Yes." His response was stoic.

"You can see them." I added in a slight whisper, but the fear was evident in my voice.

"Bella what do those mean? And I would have thought that you would be thankful that I saved your life, and stopped you from bleeding out."

He was right. I was eternally thankful, but some things just didn't add up.

"I saw you stand in between my truck and that van." By reflex I looked outside and saw the crushed van.

"The man is ok; by the way, I tended to him after I made sure you weren't going to bleed to death."

He said this with such ardor; as if my death would be the worst thing that could ever befall him.

"Don't change the subject! You should have gotten killed! Not that I want you dead or anything…"

"Bella, I really can't…"

His words hung there, as if the statement should have been finished. This saddened and angered me at the same time. Our respective secrets kept us from having an unguarded conversation. Or _any _kind of conversation. It angered me because even if I didn't want to admit it to myself, I had taken an interest to Edward. His actions puzzled me, drew me in with a force that was stronger than gravity. But though I really wanted to actually talk to him, I couldn't afford it because it was simply not feasible with so much to hide. Everything in our lives was a hindrance to our relationship.

"Will it always be like this?"

He looked forlornly out at the rain, without really seeing it. Conflicted resolve overtook his handsome features. Did this pain him as much as it pained me?

"It has to be this way."

His admission was something that twisted a needle in my heart. It hurt me more than it should have. And that was dangerous.

"You said that the ambulance would be here soon?"

"Yes, I can hear them now."

I began to panic. My breathing became erratic in mere seconds, and my head began to shake out of its own accord.

"No, no, no, no. I can't— they could find out! The rain… I just…"

"Bella please—"

"The water! This could ruin everything!"

"Bella—"

"My mother and I worked for months!"

Everything could crumble in minutes; I shouldn't have been in the truck when I woke up. It was irrational for me to have sat there waiting for the world to find out about the freak I was.

I was so caught up in my anxiety that Edward's attempts to make me relax were futile. That is, until he did something that was totally unexpected.

"Bella!"

"What!" I shouted back.

His voice was no louder than that of a normal conversation, but he said my name with such force that I couldn't have been able to look away from him, even if I wanted to.

He held my gaze for a fraction of a second, then ever so slowly, he raised his hands and placed them on either side of my face. The warm electrical current returned. Out of their own accord, my hands went up to his wrists. The intensity in his eyes never dwindled; it only increased when my skin made contact with his. He looked at me like I was…precious.

"Listen to me. Just calm down. You need medical attention, you hit your head and there is a possibility that it might be a concussion."

At this I began to shake my head again. "Edward you don't understand—"

"Wait, Bella. Just listen. What do you need? Tell me, and to the best of my ability, I will try to help you."

His face was no more than a couple of inches away from mine. His breath was the sweetest I had ever smelled, and instantly, the tension in my body began to dissipate. His gaze held mine, rendering my mind incapable of keeping an understandable line of thought.

His eyes… they were just… so deep, intense.

I ran a thumb over the back of his hand, feeling the smooth, cold, skin. His face seemed to say "_trust me"_, and I desperately wanted to. I just didn't know how much I could trust him.

"Edward," I whispered, "Whatever happens, I _cannot_ be on that ambulance. They cannot see the marks on my forehead."

"Bella, you need medical attention. You have to go to the hospital."

I was quickly becoming frantic again,

"Edward, I _can't_. It's dangerous for me!"

He let his hands slide off my face, and I quickly withdrew mine from his wrists, snapping from the trance we had been in. the rest of the world was once again, painfully real. He stared at the rain, his eyes pensive. I noticed that he _still _wasn't breathing.

I could hear the siren now. My impatience mounted.

"Here's, what I can do, I can tell the EMTs that you can't ride on the ambulance, that I can take you myself seeing as you have no severe injury—"

"Edward, what about my truck? I don't know the damage it obtained, and it will still have my vomit all over the floor; I hope I didn't get your shoes dirty. " I blushed as I mentioned my own vomit.

Yuck.

He looked at me with a smile, and carefully touched my cheek with his fingertips in a caress.

"Let me worry about that Bella. Let's just get you to the hospital."

The siren grew louder.

"I was headed over there anyway; I was told my mother was waking."

"I'm glad that your mother is getting better. Wait here."

Within seconds my door was open and Edward stood there holding an umbrella. His actions were becoming uncommonly fast; the appearance of the umbrella was unexplained, seeing as I didn't have one with me.

Regardless, I still couldn't take any chances.

"I need your jacket too. The water..."

My stomach clenched, worried that he was going to start asking more questions. Surprisingly, his curiosity, though evident in his eyes, was kept silent as he gave me his jacket. While he shouldered my bag, I slipped on the jacket, and his scent was thrown full force in my face. It was something entirely unique; no artificial fragrance could ever match it. There was no burn that characterized nearly all colognes. This was something that could come naturally. Did this guy have no body odor? I fought to clear my head of the dizziness the scent brought with it.

Edward cleared his throat, making me realize that I was just sitting there like an idiot. I let myself slide out of the truck and gingerly stepped onto the wet pavement; Edward was there to steady me with a hand on my elbow as we walked to his Volvo.

He opened the door for me, and no sooner than I was safely inside, I saw the ambulance stop just beyond the scene of the accident.

"Stay here; I'll go take care of them." He said as he placed my bag at my feet.

"Edward," I reached over and put my hand on his arm to stop him. His face showed the most unguarded awe as he eyed my hand. Instantly, I was self-conscious for being so bold. I withdrew my hand,

"My truck?" he had never specified what 'I'll take care if it' meant.

He smiled again, "I said I will take care of your truck. But right now I have to talk to them." He jerked his head in the direction of the EMT that was now walking towards us.

"But—"

"Bella, just trust me. Your truck will be cleaned and sitting in front of the hospital before you know it."

The moment he said the word 'cleaned' my face decided to color itself a lovely shade of red (sarcasm).

"Okay." He smiled wider.

"I'll be right back."

I was digging around in my bag for the make up to cover my marks the second the door closed.

As I spread the liquid over my forehead, I listened into the silence, trying to concentrate on whatever Edward was saying to the EMT. Through the sound of the rain (which was hardly more than a drizzle by now), I could barely catch words like 'ambulance', and 'trauma', but the overall gist was lost to me.

I took advantage of my small moment of privacy to appreciate the interior of Edward's car. Everything was spotless, but what caught my attention the most was his scent. Again.

The whole car smelled of Edward. It was absolutely intoxicating, and wondered how on earth, could someone smell this amazingly good without the use of any sort of fragrance.

I was still fussing with the makeup around my bandage, when Edward finally came back to the car.

"Was there much trouble?" I asked, still concentrating on my forehead.

"Not particularly, no."

Everything was silent for a few seconds. When Edward still hadn't started the car, I turned to him.

And I found him staring right back at me with that same unguarded, burning intensity. Suddenly I lost my ability to speak.

I knew he was bursting with questions inside; those molten gold eyes didn't make it any easier.

"What?"

"You shouldn't have to hide." He said this as if he was confessing a mortal weakness.

His admission surprised me nonetheless.

"Says the one who is hiding everything." I replied, turning back to the mirror to apply the final touches.

"Touché."

"We should get going, I'm done here anyway." The other man in the accident was already loaded in the ambulance.

Without another word, Edward started the car and followed the ambulance.

My thoughts drifted while he drove. Absently, my gaze shifted to Edward. He had followed me, even when I had told him to stop, to keep me safe. Annoyance was present, but it was at the very bottom of all the gratefulness I felt towards him. What amazed me the most, was that even after he knew that something was obviously wrong with me, he didn't press the matter. He was always there whether I needed it or not, in the most selfless of ways he had frequently been there. I felt that our rather flimsy relationship was oddly out of balance. Thus far, I had done nothing to show how thankful I truly was, and for that I felt guilt.

My fingers softly ran across the bandage on my forehead.

"Be careful, you don't want to open the wound again."

The silence was broken so abruptly, it startled me. My hand fell to join the other on my lap, I stared at them for a moment, while I gathered up the guts to speak.

"I really haven't thanked you for everything. You must think I'm a horrible person."

He stopped the car, and I realized that we were already at the hospital. Edward turned to face me.

"Bella, I could never bring myself to think that about you, so please, don't think that about yourself. You were stressed. That's all." His eyes looked at me with such tenderness that I had to look away before my eyes began to well up with tears with all of the emotion.

"I still don't know how to thank you. I was rude to you earlier today, and now I'm still here because you made that possible."

"Hey", he gently put his finger under my chin to make me look at him, "You really have no need to thank me, I would do it all again if I could."

At this I let out something that was in between a laugh and a sob, "Thank you, so much."

He flashed me a dazzling smile, "You're very welcome, Bella. Let's just go inside and get your head checked out. Okay?"

With a small smile of my own, I nodded. In seconds, he was at my door, holding out an umbrella for me.

"Bella, I can get my dad to check your head, he'll be very discreet, about everything." He said reassuringly as we walked towards the entrance.

I understood his meaning, and once again, I was drowning in amazement at what he was willing to do for me.

When we entered the hospital, I immediately spotted Jessica and Angela.

I had completely forgotten about them.

"Bella!" Angela rushed over to me.

"I'll take care of the paperwork." Edward whispered into my ear. His voice sent a shiver down my spine.

I nodded at him and turned towards Angela,

"Ang, I'm so sorry. There was an accident. The rain was terrible, and this van crashed into me."

"Oh my God Bella, are you ok?" Jessica had followed.

"For the most part, I'm fine."

"Wait, what is Edward doing here?" Gossip-oriented Jessica didn't disappoint.

I shrugged, "Edward was driving by and helped me with the worst of it." I pointed to the bandage on my forehead.

"Oh." She sounded disappointed, as if what I had told her wasn't what she was looking for.

"Well I'm so glad that you're ok." Angela said, with a smile.

"I'm so sorry I ruined the shopping trip though." My shoulders slumped, the guilt returned.

"Oh, don't worry about that, we can always postpone to sometime next week. What's important is that you're not injured too badly." I smiled and blinked rapidly to keep any tears from forming. What did I ever do to receive such kindness? First it was Edward, now Angela.

"Yeah it's ok." Jessica didn't sound like she agreed though.

But I couldn't dwell on it, because Edward reappeared at that time.

"Bella, we have to go. Excuse us, Angela, Jessica."

Angela nodded, "Sure, thanks Edward."

Edward gave her a nod and a small grin. With a hand on my lower back, he guided me to an examining room. I felt the familiar surge of electricity the whole way there.

When Dr. Cullen walked in, he was all business as he examined my head. His cold fingers felt along my injuries and watched for any reaction from me.

Edward was right.

Dr. Cullen was discreet. It was obvious that he could see a few hints of my not-so-human qualities, yet he kept to himself.

"Have you felt any dizziness, or problems with memory?"

"No, my head just hurts. That's all."

After a few x-rays and a couple of other tests (Edward had stayed during all of them), he concluded that I did indeed have a concussion. I was recommended some medication for the pain and of course, I was going to have to wake up every few hours that night.

Dr. Cullen stopped me before I left,

"Isabella, your mother is out of her coma, as I'm sure you were told before coming here. You may go see her, but she is very weak."

"Thank you."

"Edward, I need to talk to you, later this afternoon."

They stayed silent for two seconds, before Edward nodded and walked with me out of the room.

Weird. It was like they were having a silent conversation or something.

"Bella, I called your father, while you were talking to Angela. He should be here by now."

I turned towards him,

"Edward, what was that?" I gestured to the room we just left, "In there? You and your dad looked like— well…" that was the moment when my mind caught up with me. Why was I being so nosy?

"You know what, never mind. Forget I said anything."

Edward merely grinned, and brought his fingers once again to my cheek. All forms of coherent thought went out the window.

"Perceptive." His voice was a whisper, "Your father is waiting. I _will_ see you tomorrow."

At that, my gaze turned skeptical.

"I promise. I will be there tomorrow."

I smiled shyly, "Ok, see you tomorrow then. Thanks again, for everything."

His hand dropped from my face, and with a final smile, I turned and headed for the entrance, where I saw a frantic Charlie, _and _a worried Phil.

"Bella! What happened?" Charlie was the first to reach me.

"I'm fine. The roads were too wet and a van lost control. I didn't get too hurt."

"Bella." Charlie's stern voice shamed me into telling the truth.

Well, not the whole truth.

"Okay, I just hit my head a little. With a pain medication I'll be all better."

Phil took the opportunity to speak, "Bella, are you sure you're ok? What about the bandage on your forehead?"

"It's really not as bad as it looks. Dr. Cullen said so himself." Yes, this part was a lie, but I really needed to get their attention off me.

"Have you gone in to see my mom?"

"Yeah, she keeps asking for you. You better go in soon, or else she might be sedated again." Phil urged me to go, but Charlie's broken expression caught my attention.

"Dad?" I tried to decipher what was going on inside through his eyes, but all he said was,

"Go on, kiddo. Don't keep your mother waiting."

At his insistence I reluctantly turned and went to my mother.

The moment I entered the room, my whole sarcastic façade I had used as a mask these past few weeks melted away, and I was left entirely exposed.

She laid there, her thin frame looking even more breakable since yesterday. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was even.

How was it that she kept looking worse? Could she not regain her health?

Numbly, my legs led me to the stool next to her bed, and sat down. With the heart monitor beeping its soothing rhythm, I took in my mother's appearance.

Her cheeks were sunken, and her skin was sickly pale. Most of her bruises were already gone, but there were still a few spots where her skin was stained yellow-green.

I gently slipped my hand into hers.

It was unnaturally cold, but I pushed the fact aside once she stirred from the half slumber she was in.

"Mom." I whispered.

She stirred, and opened her drowsy eyes to meet mine.

"Honey." Her voice was raspy and broke towards the end.

"How are you feeling?" The happiness inside me could not be repressed. Finally, my mother seemed to be out of danger.

She tried to smile, but only managed to make her mouth look lopsided, "Drowsy."

We both let out half hearted laughs.

For weeks, I had been waiting to be able to finally see my mom wake up again, bursting with things to tell her.

I was dying to tell her about the memory I had lived through, about Edward and how it seemed that I was getting attached to him, about Jacob and Billy Black, and my changes, and everything that had been happening ever since her accident.

But now, the silence settled around us like a thick blanket that was too heavy to remove.

A terrible, unspoken truth hung in the air. A harsh, cold silence.

It was something that pressed against my chest, a weight that could not be removed no matter how hard I was going to try.

"What is it honey?" Her feeble hand attempted to squeeze mine in encouragement.

Something felt wrong. She was too weak, and her temperature was too low. But I pushed that aside.

I sighed, "There's just so much to tell. I hardly know where to start."

"Well you can start by telling me about that bandage."

My body stiffened, "Mom, there is something else I have to tell you first."

I withdrew my hands, suddenly realizing that they were sweating.

"Bella?"

"Mom there's this guy—"

"No!" My mother's face paled even more than it already was.

"Bella, I _told_ you! Nobody. Don't get close to anybody. This is very reckless of you. Bella have I taught you nothing?"

"Mom, you don't understand, he's… well… not normal."

With that my mom became even more agitated. The heart monitor was going crazy and her hands grasped mine with newfound strength.

"Mom! Mom, let me explain. Its fine, just hear me out!" I kept imploring her to calm down.

"Mom, if you don't calm down, they might come in to sedate you, and I have too much to tell you for them to do that."

We looked at each other, waiting for the monitor to return to a normal rhythm.

When she finally was stable enough she nodded at me to continue.

"My first day at school, he was strangely hostile. But the only thing he ever did was try to put more distance between us. That was the first time I noticed that there was something different."

My mother frowned, "What was it?"

It was evident that my hesitation was frustrating her.

"The handle to the office door was molded into his hand."

"Oh God no." My mother moaned as if she was in pain. She knew more than she let on.

"What?"

"Keep going."

I shrugged, knowing that she was hiding something, "Well, he was absent for the rest of the week, but when he came back, he found me in my art classroom. He apologized for his strange behavior, and gave me an apple because he noticed I didn't eat much at lunch."

My pause served to gauge my mother's reaction. She had narrowed eyes, but was still apprehensive of Edward.

"The day after your accident, he was so… caring." As memories of that afternoon flooded my mind, the words flowing out of me increased in speed. I no longer took care of editing my story.

"He noticed that my arms were bruised, but he didn't know why. I didn't tell him that I connected with the Mother. He thought I was being abused. But he didn't push for information when I refused to give it to him, he just helped me out to my truck, promised me that his father would do his best to take care of you—he's a doctor here—"

"You did what?"

That shut me up.

Crap. I just told my mother I had done the very thing she had forbidden me from doing.

"I went out to the accident, and went into your memories." My voice dwindled to a whisper.

"Bella." My mother suddenly sounded exhausted, she was shaking her head in disapproval.

"Mom, I did it. I, mean I haven't proven myself yet and I managed to get away with only a few bruises."

There was a touch of excitement in my voice, I couldn't help it.

"Bella, are you trying to get out of this? You know that there is a huge possibility—"

"Mom, I know. If anything, what I saw made me accept it a little more."

"Keep going, tell me about this boy."

"Mom, who was it that attacked you? He didn't even look human."

"Just keep going, Bella."

Warily, I continued, more conscious than before about everything that I said, and even more aware of my mother's dwindling strength, and her growing disquietude. My insides knotted in nervousness; her condition seemed to be rapidly worsening.

"Mom are you okay? Do you need to rest or something?"

She struggled to get enough air, "No…no, I'm fine."

I wasn't fooled, "Mom—"

"Keep talking… I'm fine."

Sighing in frustration at her obvious lie, I went on.

"Well that day I was telling you about. You should have seen the way he looked at me."

The gentleness, it was as if… but I couldn't make myself think of it.

"How?"

I rubbed my hands on my jeans.

"As if I meant something to him." I paused, "As if he cared."

She studied me for a second. I could discern nothing but the hopelessness in her eyes.

"Go on."

"At first I wasn't sure, if I was right about him. But, when I was on my way over here, it was raining too hard, and a van driving in the opposite direction lost control and crashed into me."

My mother had tears running down her face. She grasped my hands; her skin had gotten colder, and my heart began to pound. Was this normal?

I pushed forward.

"When I came to, he was there, holding me while I puked my guts out."

A smile overpowered my features at the memory.

"He had bandaged my head, and he saw my marks." My mother tensed even more, but waited for me to continue.

"Mom, he has secrets of his own that he can't tell me. So when I couldn't tell him, about…well, he understood and he did everything he could to keep me safe. He saved my life in that crash."

It was a while before she spoke again, but when she did, I wished she had decided to keep silent.

"Bella…stay away from him." Her gaze was stony, her voice firm, but no more than a feeble whisper.

My heart pounded with unexpected pain. It was with a dull ache in my chest that I finally came to terms with how deep I had fallen.

"Honey, you…" she breathed deeply "can't continue talking to him, he… is a threat to you and to everything I prepared you for." Her emphatic tone startled me. My mind rejected her words with blatant refusal. And I realized that to be able to stay away from Edward, I was going to have to be dragged away.

"Why? Does he have anything to do with the man in your memory?"

No matter how hard she tried, she could never keep anything important from me; I had always managed to force her to tell me the whole truth. But this time was different.

"No…no… I forbid you… from going after them… they would kill you without a second thought." To see her struggle so hard for breath made my throat tighten with unformed tears.

_She's going to be okay with rest,_ I told myself. She had to.

She was forceful in her order; her expression was broken with pain, guilt and fear. This was the first time I had ever witnessed her give in to such feelings, and it scared me to the point where I could hardly move. She was the strongest person I knew, and here she crumbled under her perceived threat that Edward posed against me. Her speech was becoming labored; my instincts were screaming at me, but they were telling me something I did not want to hear.

More tears slid down her cheeks, "Why couldn't I avoid them? Now I'll have to leave you… so unprotected…" her breath was short, she had to gasp for more air now. My heart began to beat even faster; I blinked away the tears that were starting to form.

She confused me, "What do you mean? You're fine, and awake. You just have to get your strength back and—"

Her hand flew out to my cheek. I gasped.

"Do you feel that Bella?"

_No…please. No…_

"You're freezing mom. Do you need me to call someone? An extra blanket…"

She shook her head.

"No."

She was crying uncontrollably now. Tears welled in my eyes as pain ripped through my being. My mother shouldn't be in pain, she should be happy, relieved that I was ok. She was drifting away. Deteriorating too fast.

"Honey, the only reason I'm still here is because I still have reserves of power in me."

What?

"I don't understand." It couldn't be. I had begun to perceive the horrible truth, yet I refused to accept it. My head was shaking, and the tears began to fall.

"I'm already dead, Bella."

_No…_

I could have sworn my heart stopped. Denial followed.

"No! No, no you can't be! You're here; you're alive, and breathing!"

Silent tears.

"Don't- Don't… you can't! I need you; there is still so much I don't know!"

I broke before my mother like I had never allowed myself to show her before. I clutched her hand in between my own.

"Oh God…" I whispered brokenly as I continued to sob into my mother's hand.

My heart knew the truth. As much as I begged what ever forces that ruled our world to save her… I knew it was too late.

I was floating aimlessly in a turbulent sea. The rock I relied on was weathered away, exposing me—making me realize how truly weak I was.

All those times we had laughed together…all those moments I took for granted.

They were gone.

And so was she.

"I love… you, honey… Never forget… it." The crack in her voice held so much misery. So much weakness.

"You must….go on. Be… strong like… I know…you are."

I held onto her, hoping that if I didn't let go she wouldn't leave. We stayed there, gazing at each other, savoring the last moments we were to ever have together.

_A little girl of five was crying in bed. Her mother ran into the room and wrapped her arms around her distressed daughter._

"_It was only a nightmare Bella, you're okay."_

"_Mommy, you were going to leave." The girl cried miserably into the mother's shoulder._

_The mother lovingly kissed the girl's forehead._

"_Well that won't do will it? How about I make you a promise?"_

_The girl quieted in anticipation. The mother wiped the tears from her eyes_

"_I promise that from this day on, I will always be here for you. Forever."_

"_Forever and ever?"_

"_Forever and ever."_

I closed my eyes against the pain of the memory. The safety a mother brings is unlike anything anybody could make you feel in the world. One simple, loving hug had the power to turn the darkest storm into something that you could conquer. It eradicated any sense of vulnerability and gave you the power to go on even when the world was hell bent on making you drown. The presence of a mother is vital for support in life or just somebody to be with when you need it. My mother was all those things and more. So much more.

She wasn't supposed to leave.

It wasn't fair.

As time passed, we both became silent. Neither one of us had the strength to talk.

It would have been useless anyway. There was simply too much to tell and not enough time to

tell it.

The heart monitor gradually began to pick up in speed.

"Mom, I love you." The small amount of composure was quickly falling again,

"Honey… it's almost… time… I can feel it." She croaked after a few minutes.

I could see it. She was so pale I could see the veins and arteries under her skin. There was the slightest tinge of blue. She could hardly breathe

"Mom no…" I was torn apart at the seams again

"Bella … are you sure… about him?"

I wished I was deaf in that moment. She was suffocating.

It was the most terrible sound I had ever heard.

"I, think so. We haven't…"

"Be… careful!" The machines were going insane. I couldn't take it anymore.

I jumped up to reach for the call button, but I was stopped by a freezing hand.

"Mom!" my voice broke…

She yanked me forward; her gasps hardly drew air for her. Tears from my eyes fell to her blue-tinged face.

"Black…go…" she gasped, and choked on her own saliva. "Talk…"

Her strength gave out. I wrenched myself from her grasp and slammed my hand down on the help button.

I flew to the door and shouted at the top of my lungs, for anyone who could hear.

"HELP!" A crowd of nurses were already running in my direction.

"Ma'am, we need you to step out of the room!"

Before I could do anything, I was roughly pushed out of the room. My body slammed onto the wall opposite the door. My hands pushed off it, I ran to the window.

Unrestrained tears bathed my face. I couldn't stop; without a doubt, this was the end.

My eyes wouldn't budge, my head screamed for nothing more than for me to turn away from the terrible sight, but I didn't move. The image of my mother being struck over and over by the defibrillator was burned into my retinas.

"_Still in v-fib..."_

My sobs shook my entire body, I felt like I was falling apart.

"_Lungs are collapsing!"_

"_Charge…clear!"_

"_There is hemorrhaging in her eyes!"_

"_Charge… clear!"_

I gasped for more air through my sobs as I froze in horror. As the jagged line fell to stillness, I couldn't help but feel as though the asystole was an incarnate of the black winged creature from my nightmare, come to steal my mother away from me forever.

It was over.

I was on my own.

* * *

**Ookay...so yeah. It was my first time writing a dramatic death scene. I tried to draw from real experience, but (fortunately) I haven't experienced the death of my own parents so I don't know how terrible that would feel like. However, this past November, I lost my grandfather. It was a really painful experience, but it sort of helped me draw a little bit on those feelings one goes through when one loses a loved one. If it's not accurate at all, then I'm sorry, I did have several people read it before I published this and we worked hard on making this as realistic as possible. (Thank you Val and Clarisa! Both of you were a huge help in the making of this chapter!)**

**Now for the next chapter... I have a bit of a dilemma.**

**Though I have rough draft, it is missing several chunks and I really need your help. When you review (which I hope you do)****, give me your opinion on these two things****:**

**Should the next chapter start at the funeral, or sometime after the funeral? and...**

**Should Bella go to the dance?**

**The final announcement for this note is that I'm happy to tell you all that Edward should find out what Bella is within the next two or three chapters, which means that all of you will find out what she is as well. I know that I'm probably frustrating a lot of you, but hold out for me for just a little bit longer... you will soon find out the biggest part of this mystery!**

**Thank you all so much again for following this story, and please review!**


	10. Mourning

**Before you all chase me with pitchforks and burning torches, let me just say that I'm sorry! I know that an update is WAY overdue, but the summer has kept me so busy it should be considered illegal. I kid you all not, for me, school started up again the week right after school let out, and ever since I have been preoccupied with my classes and volunteering services. Oh, and lets not forget the thrilling(sarcasm) band camp sessions. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the camps, but sometimes it can be nothing short of exhausting standing in 100 degree weather for four hours. That's what I get for being an over achiever, I know, no need to say 'I told you so'. To put the cherry on top, my dear sister got violently sick and I found myself 1) Kicked out of my own room, because she can snore like a bulldozer when she's sick, and 2) Everybody had to take turns taking care of her (at least it was just my parents and I). Fortunately, all is well now and I can once again sleep in my own bed instead of the floor in my brother's room:)**

**This chapter is clearly not as long as the last one, and i have to warn you, it might get a bit slow during the first half. In my opinion, it picks up towards the end, but I'll leave that up to all of you. Now go forth my children, enjoy, and please be kind enough to leave a review.**

* * *

Chapter 8 Mourning

The grass felt prickly against my skin.

I never understood how people could find that grass was comfortable to walk on, let alone sit on. Never mind how they could describe it as "soft as a carpet". Whatever Earth they came from, it wasn't this one; the grass was damp, felt like there were hundreds of critters crawling around, and there were numerous twigs that wanted to pierce through my bare calves. I shifted my position on the ground and tightened my hands on my umbrella, and for the first time since its placement, my eyes fixed on the stone in front of me.

_Renee Dwyer_

_1972-2010_

_Death will be the golden key when life will not suffice_

My blank stare lingered on the unusual epitaph, while my fingers probed the rough edges of the words on the round tombstone. How could death be any sort of key? The quote made it sound like something liberating, but death was one of the most painful _hindering_ forces of life. It made everything seem worthless, and sucked all vibrancy out of anything one could continue living for.

A hand gently squeezed my shoulder, "Bella."

Charlie knelt down beside me; wordlessly, I raised my head to look up at him. "Bella, come with me, we have to drop Phil off at the airport, and most of the people are gone."

One sweep of the cemetery told me that indeed nearly all of the people had deserted us at conclusion of the funeral.

"You go."

"Bells." His tone was pleading.

"Please."

"You won't have a ride back to the house. Just come with me."

"Dad, the cemetery is five minutes away; a short walk isn't going to do me any harm." Even to my ears I sounded dead.

In vain, he waited for some kind of reanimation, I would no sooner move than he would begin dancing around, oblivious to our withering family.

"Fine, don't stay out too long." His thick voice faded, along with everything else into the background. His will having crumbled, my dad only grunted and trudged wearily away.

I willed my black skirt to cover more of my legs; the soft drizzle threatened to become more violent. A storm was coming. The sinister clouds that loomed powerfully on the horizon threatened to shroud the Earth in mourning; the distant rumble of thunder depicted its anger.

_The wings were not a part of my mother but of another being standing behind her._

Darkness latched itself on to me like the plague, permeating my mind with precipitous flashes of my worst nightmares. There were no choices when it came to them, there was only 'curl up and ride it out'. I had forgotten what it meant to get a good night's sleep.

My hand resumed the tracing of the epitaph. When the grass had been rolled over the freshly upturned earth, and the tombstone placed at the head of the burial, people stared at it in confusion. I couldn't blame them; it made me wonder if it sounded as suicidal to them as it did to me. Charlie wanted to inscribe something more meaningful, while Phil wanted to take her back to Arizona altogether. However, a mysterious will and an attorney popped up out of nowhere, and all of a sudden, all the funeral arrangements were made according to it.

And that was that. There was no partition of property no hidden bank accounts, just a ring with markings identical to those on my forehead. Left obviously to me. There were loose ends everywhere. A mystery will? What person with an ordinary fortune does that?

And the ring?

Hardly a family heirloom. As usual, nothing made sense; it was all simply made to appear as if it was wrapped up neatly; surely there were still cards that had not been played yet. My hand left the stone to touch the cold metal on my finger. There definitely was a secret buried deep in all this mess.

A harsh cold wind blew droplets of ice onto my leg. Resurfacing from a muffled world, I staggered to my feet mumbling a string of curses. My eyes scanned the rest of the cemetery for straggling mourners. There were none. With a final, tearless glance at the grave, I walked through the ancient tombstones out of the graveyard. The gate closed behind me with a chilling _clang_ that sent my mind reeling into the darkest echoes of the nightmare. _The winged creature…the haunted street… _my own mental torment kept me from moving. My hands gripped the umbrella tighter, drawing it in closer as if the flimsy contraption could provide more protection

My heart craved numbness, anything that could block me from feeling or thinking. The wind blew stronger, colder; it nipped at my fingers and chilled the tip of my nose. The drizzle that had hung over the whole funeral morphed into a storm as it bit at my legs. I should have known that a dress was a stupid decision.

But the cold kept me from thinking.

Slowly, I regained power over my own legs. One foot in front of the other, it was a task so simple, so ordinary, yet difficult to execute. My lungs drew in a breath. As I fell in to the habit of trudging through the rain, my extremities began to loose all sensitivity to the cold.. Frustrated with the wind and trying to fight it with the useless umbrella, I snapped the damn thing shut.

The privacy of the rain set me free as nostalgia drenched the air around me; the familiar slicing pain broke out across my head and shoulders. I had carelessly unshielded myself on the deserted street, without a second thought. Almost impulsively, I stripped myself of my jacket; I turned my face toward the heavens, delighting in the iciness around me. It was wonderful, feeling so unprotected. With the thunder and lightning causing a cacophony amongst the clouds and the rain simulating an environment of madness, my whole being felt so liberated that my step gained a new spring . Nothing mattered anymore now that I had no control with anything. What was the point in complaining?

Yes, I was hurt and alone, but there was no gain in feeling cheated out of my decisions—I wouldn't get them back anyway. Feeling was overrated— it hurt more than it healed; and from the position I was in, I couldn't afford to feel anymore. My presence on this earth was not one for leisure, it was to serve the ancient magic that resided in it to whatever end without question, and because of that I had no right to the comforts of human beings anymore.

So as I let the rain and the gusts of icy winds drive shards of cold into me, I knew that I had found a freedom where most would find constriction. As long as I was above all human emotion, life would be as simple as mindlessly performing my duties as servant to the Earth. The storm grew more violent, and with my face still upturned toward the tormented sky, my arms spread wide to relish in the turbulence around me, I belted out a laugh that hung somewhere between madness and sanity. Suddenly my whole world had struck clarity; my future was cruel, yet it was the only one I had. As my feet fought their way through the nearly blinding rain my mind listened to the orchestra of sounds around me, letting it be the bitter balm to my wounds.

The serenity was shattered by the one sound I dreaded most to hear— the soft purr of a car engine.

Worse still, said car had come to a stop directly behind me.

Time stood still, as my thoughts ran a mile a second. In my mind, I could already see the devilish stare from the predator that murdered my mom. Against my most desperate commands, my feet turned me around to face the stranger.

My eyes met liquid gold.

Edward was seated in his infernal shiny Volvo, staring at me with such a penetrating gaze that I felt naked to him. Our eyes bored into each other, amazement colliding with hopelessness. I breathed heavily as I scrounged around the darkest corners of my mind for escape plans, but the depths of my brain stayed infuriatingly empty. My head dropped as my eyes honed in on the ground, but the moment our staring contest broke, his car door opened. Faster than I could think 'run' my feet had all but flown me towards the darkness of the forest. Almost like a dancer, I leapt over the ditch lining the street, and hurtled for cover among the trees. Edward's foot falls alerted me to his pursuit. I pushed myself harder, egging my legs to move faster as the trees blurred past me.

Blurred?

I gasped as I realized that indeed, the trees seemed to be almost one solid wall. But that wasn't the only thing that was strange. My eyes darted around the forest, noticing that trees' branches seemed to take on the qualities of human arms, literally lending me a helping hand. My feet felt the ferns underneath gain a springiness, that propelled me further with inhuman speed.

The ring on my finger burned.

"Bella?" He was still behind me, even after my impossible speed. "Wait! Please!"

Desperation hammered in my chest as I began to feel winded. My muscles were burning.

"Help!" I breathed to whatever force, that would help me escape.

One leap, one powerful push from underneath my feet, and then I was flying. For a moment, I could almost see the sea trees extending towards the horizon.

I had only sucked in enough air to let out a scream so high pitched it was swallowed by the forest.

As my altitude began to decline I searched frantically for a branch to hold onto. Sensing my desperation, my hands promptly closed onto a branch.

The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was the tree trunk directly before me. My muscles froze, waiting for the bone-shattering impact as I prayed I wouldn't look as if I had been grotesquely broken like a sack of bone and muscle.

But a crash never came.

My body felt weightless, and upon opening my eyes, I could observe the world around me with new eyes.

I could see the activity of life in the trees around me, the surge of energy production and consumption pulsed in each living thing, like live wires.

With a start I realized that my eyes weren't doing the seeing— it was the tree. I had been flung_ into_ the tree and, for the first time, was privy to what it was like being a non-sentient form of life. This turned out to be quite the paradox; plant life was more powerful than their passive appearance let on.

My body was immobile; the tree had me locked inside.

Less than a second later, Edward seemingly materialized almost in front of the tree that shielded me. He was crouched low, as if he planned to jump into action the second he found what he was looking for; his being took on the characteristics of a predatory animal, rather than human. Not for the first time, I itched to delve into his deepest secrets and read him like I had read no one else before.

He breathed in deeply, figuring out what scents lingered in the air. His head snapped up, faster than was humanly normal, "Strawberries" he muttered. My breathing stopped short.

That was my shampoo. Blood rushed through my ears, as I heard my own erratic heartbeat. The predator in him detected the change in my heartbeat, as I frantically tried to force myself to calm down. In less than three strides, he was standing a mere foot from me—no from the tree. Pale hands examined crevices while inquiring eyes searched diligently for any clue. He circled the tree three times before coming to the conclusion that there was nothing visibly bizarre. But my heart was still having its own attack, and that was clearly bothering him.

A hand rested on the spot right next to my face. I tried not to think about the day he took me to the hospital, how his fingers gently caressed…

No. I couldn't think about that now.

Instead I focused on his face, and was surprised to see a tired, defeated expression marring his handsome features.

Handsome? _So not the time for this._

"I can hear your heart. But where are you?"

At his startling statement, my heart decided to pump twice as fast as it already was. Edward proceeded to put his ear against the trunk, listening to my dangerous heartbeat as if it was the sweetest sound he had ever had the fortune to come across. I waited for him to leave but he wouldn't move, he was acting like an alcoholic about to be parted from the reason of his existence.

Finally, he stepped back muttering, "I'm listening to a tree. Jasper's right, I _am_ losing it."

But that didn't stop him from turning back with a pained expression.

"She shouldn't have to hide. Not from me."

With reluctance clear in his face, he forced himself to turn and disappear as fast as he had appeared. What kind of person could do that?

I held my breath, while my ears searched for any telltale noises that could indicate Edwards return. But after several minutes, the forest had stayed as still as he had left it.

My hand pressed against the trunk, gently pushing forward, and was surprised to see that I was being let out. I stumbled forward out of my hiding place, assessing my surroundings once more.

The trees still felt like they were listening to me, waiting for another plea.

"Thank you." I whispered into what seemed like nothingness

Slowly, the trees lost their human-ness and returned to being the stiff upright plants that they were.

It took at least two hours of laborious walking to find the street again, after which I easily found my way to an empty, cold house.

There was a note on the fridge:

_Went out, be back soon. If you're not here by the time I get back, I'm sending out a search party._

Mechanically, I crumpled the post-it and went upstairs for a shower. I tried my hardest not to think about the forest incident, my brain, sadly, had other plans.

What were the odds of Edward finding me on the street in the exact moment I decided to be careless? He would always pop out of nowhere, and even though it was blatantly obvious that I was different, there was an understanding between us. I wouldn't talk about mine and he didn't talk about his. We were there to help.

I finished dressing, went to my room, where my eyes caught on the folded post it on my bedside table.

_Please come over soon, my dad wouldn't stop telling me how important it is for you to come._

_Jacob_

With a warning siren begging me to stay put, I snatched up the paper and ran out to my truck. Surely, Billy Black could have some answers? And I was hoping against hope that I wasn't drawn into some selfish scheme. Driving across the border dividing Forks from La Push brought with it sickening nervous jolts in my stomach. My hands tightened around the wheel, my foot pushing the pedal. I found the house with ease. It was a simple residence, bordering on humble.

I hesitated for only a second after switching off the thunderous truck, but then again, I would get nowhere if I didn't take the risk. I threw open the door and marched up to the house with more resolve than I felt. My knuckles rapped hard upon the door. Jacob opened it a few seconds later, his face colored with surprise.

"You said that your father wanted to see me?"

"Right. Come in, I'll tell my dad."

He showed me to their small, plain living room, "Make yourself comfortable".

As if that was even possible. Regardless, I nodded as I lowered myself down onto the old sofa, "Thanks".

It was a few minutes before the small squeaking from a wheelchair came from the hall. I looked up to see Billy rolling towards me, with a worn book with an aged leather cover resting on his lap. "Good after noon Mr. Black", my voice shook with nervousness.

"Please, call me Billy. My deepest condolences for your loss. Your mother was an exceptional woman." I heard deep admiration and respect in his voice.

"You knew my mother?" I couldn't hide the tightness in my voice.

"More than you can fathom. I knew things were getting dangerous, but I never thought they would be this _advanced._"

I was getting more confused by the minute. "I have no idea what you mean by all this." Billy responded by smiling gently. "Everything can be explained in due time. About a year ago when your mother found out that you possessed a great potential for being the _one_ she gave this to me for safe keeping and sent you here, where she hoped you would be kept safe." A shadow came over his face, "Both of us had no idea how wrong we would be." He paused for a moment, whilst I listened intently. "She told me that if anything would ever to happen to her, that this book should be entrusted to you." He held out the book, his hands were old and wrinkled; they fit with the book. I took it, holding it curiously, thirsting for whatever was inside.

"If you have any questions after you read that, you may trust me. I have been a guardian of the secret for over fifty years; you need not fear that I will break."

I looked up from the book and saw that he was looking at me like a second father. In that moment, I knew that Billy Black was probably the most trust worthy person I would be able to have around.

"Thank you."

I opened the book, letting the scent of the aged paper waft up to my nostrils.

My mind was immediately caught up with the words before me…

* * *

**Please tell me what you think!**


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